


till we come face to face

by multicorn



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Communication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multicorn/pseuds/multicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They end up together at the Lima Bean, promises made over the phone at Thanksgiving long left behind.  "I know the relationship between us is - complicated," Kurt says.  His hands are folded around the cardboard cup as if in prayer.  "But I need to talk to my best friend.  Can you do that?"</p><p>(reunion fic, divergent from canon after 4x22)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This reunion fic was plotted out back in July, and takes no notice of anything we know about season five. Many thanks to mockanddee for telling me exactly what was wrong with the very first draft (which also made me realize this story needed to be more like ten thousand words instead of two), and to misqueue for last-minute beta-ing. Love you guys.

When the doctor says his Dad doesn't have cancer, Kurt feels like he can finally breathe again. 

The next day, Blaine asks him to stay for Regionals, and that's fine, that's great.  He changes his flight back, takes advantage of Isabelle's inexplicable kindness and the fact that these classes at NYADA will be almost the first that he's skipped since he started, and he's - not quite home - but in Lima for another week. 

He doesn't know what to expect.  When he says yes to Blaine and they walk out of the school arm-in-arm, he feels light hearted, almost floating, and full of possibility.  But he's only planned to stay there for a week, and it turns out it's not that long.  Somehow, between school and last-minute practice upon practice that he's not invited to, and one inexplicable dinner with a pair of charming strangers, and despite the fact that Blaine specifically asked him to stay, he barely gets to see Blaine at all.  It's Saturday now, and tomorrow he'll be going to back to New York with nothing to show for the extra week he's spent here, and he's... kind of frustrated. 

And, honestly, kind of annoyed. 

He'd have been happy to spend the week hanging out, with Blaine, just as friends.  It's still awkward, sometimes, when he stumbles over something that he wants but can't quite have, but it's also just so damn _good_ to be around someone who knows him as well as Blaine does.  Just to be around _Blaine._  Who is, hands down, the most ridiculous, sincere, most alive and most _amazing_ person that Kurt's ever known.  Even if they can't make out anymore, talking and laughing and singing together is almost - almost! - as good. 

Which is why it's, yeah, frustrating that he's spent the week here only to be excluded from Glee practice - when the New Directions, he knows from long experience, have never had a problem with distractions from visitors before - and to hear only later and by accident about Blaine's afternoon trip to the mall.  He _misses_ Blaine, even more now that they're in the same city, and he doesn't think it should be that way. 

~ 

And - well.  He still loves Blaine.  He doesn't need to say it out loud, but he knows by now without a doubt that it's true.  He's tried and tried, these long winter months, but no matter what he does he still can't find a way to stop.  And he can't find a way to imagine a future with him again, either, and he just feels so _stuck_.  Every time he thinks about them together, he feels thrown up against a wall, or like he's stuck in a box, a maze, with no solution, no escape.  And maybe, who knows, maybe all of that would be better, if he could just _talk_ to Blaine again, and now that they're in the same town, he _could_. 

~ 

In the midst of the loud cheers that celebrate Mr. Schue's wedding, Kurt bends close to Blaine's ear, and suggests a cup of coffee afterwards.  Someplace quiet, just the two of them, where they can talk.

 ~ 

They end up together at the Lima Bean, promises made over the phone at Thanksgiving long left behind.

“I know the relationship between us is - complicated,” Kurt says.  His hands are folded around the cardboard cup as if in prayer.  “But I need to talk to my best friend.  Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Blaine says.  “What's up?”

And that's the question, isn't it, because of course he doesn't know.   _How can I stop loving you_ isn't exactly the right thing to say, if only because Blaine will try to convince him otherwise, and _I just want to stop feeling frustrated all the time_ will probably yield an offer of the sort that he’s promised himself not to take advantage of anymore.  So he thinks, and Blaine waits patiently, and eventually he manages, “I don't think I understand love.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks.  Level, encouraging, and though it's been years - it seems like a lifetime, or two - since the first time he spilled out his heart to Blaine over a pair of coffees, somehow the warmth in his eyes still looks the same.

“There was this boy.  And I loved him so much, for so long, and I thought that he loved me too.  But then - he did something that I never would've believed he would do, and now - I just don't know.  Did I really love him at all, or just the person I thought he was?”

“You're talking about us?”

Kurt's smile doesn't reach even halfway to his eyes.  “I've been trying not to.  But yes.”

“And about me - having sex with someone else,” Blaine says, and Kurt can feel his stomach heave.

“Please not the specifics,” he blurts out.

Blaine shrugs, but his voice is thin with frustration when he says, “And you think that makes me a whole different person?  Because it doesn't.  I thought that you forgave me this winter, Kurt, I thought we were still friends at least - ”

“We are friends!” Kurt bursts out over him, desperate to make him somehow just _stop_.  “But that doesn't mean I'm somehow okay with the fact that you _cheated_ on me - ”

“I'm still the same person,” Blaine continues, without even pausing, “I screwed up, I'm not perfect, and I'm sorry, but I'm still _me_ , and if you can't see or accept that - ”

“I don't know _how_ ,” Kurt cries, anguished, and Blaine stops.

“I don't know what you want from me.”

Kurt worries his lip, and tries to calm his screaming brain; he doesn't know what he wants, either, really, he just wants things to make sense, he just wants things to _not hurt._  And since Blaine's the center of all of this, and since Blaine's his best friend, he'd thought that maybe talking to Blaine would help, but he still doesn't know what to say.  Or ask.  “Did you still love me?” he asks.  “When you - did it?”

“Kurt!” Blaine says, and captures his hands, wrapped around the cooling cup as they still are, thumbs crossing awkwardly over his fingers, pinkies wrapping around his wrists.  “Of course I did, of course I still _do_ , don't you know that?  I promise, I've always loved you.”

“Then - ” Kurt doesn't feel reassured at all; how does that _work?_  “How is that even possible?  Why wouldn't you _stop_?”

Blaine sighs.  “Well, I wasn't thinking straight, for one thing.  It's not a choice I could even imagine making right now.”

“But you did it,” Kurt says, and he feels like hope is evaporating, right now, from this table right in front of him.  “You have to be able to explain it to me, you have to know.”

Blaine takes his hands back from where they're wrapped over Kurt's and pushes them flat on the table, out in front of him.  Kurt waits, and eventually Blaine speaks, voice distant as if he's trying to remember something that happened a long time ago.  “I felt really lost and alone at McKinley when you went to New York this fall.  I didn't have any good friends there - and, Kurt, before you left you said that we'd Skype every day, and visit every week.  But as soon as you started trying to get that job at Vogue, you barely even talked to me for, like, a month.  And when we did talk, you forgot everything I told you about my life, you didn't seem to care about me anymore, and I - " his mouth works, and Kurt waits as he struggles again.  "I felt like you had already moved on.  You hadn't actually broken up with me yet, but I knew that it was only a matter of time, and I felt like a fool for waiting.”

Kurt sits, and listens, and doesn't know how to respond.  Because he loved Blaine, and he's always cared about him, and he _never_ stopped, not until Blaine cheated on him _-_ not even _then_.These things that Blaine's saying aren't the story he knows by heart, he wants to swear to it, that he never did anything wrong.  But still, this boy is his best friend, and he knows by his face that he's telling the truth.

“I know that's not an excuse,” Blaine says, and he finally looks up.  He looks so brave, right now - brave for talking to _Kurt_ \- and it makes Kurt want to cry.  “I should've talked to you first.  You didn't - seem to care what I said, you skipped most of our phone dates and you forgot that I was even running for Senior Class President, but - I made promises, too, and whatever was happening then, you're back here now, and - anyway, I just should've _tried_.  But, um.  Maybe you can understand why I didn't.”

“Because I wasn't listening to you,” Kurt tries, the words so foreign in his mouth, because he _was_ , of course, he doesn't remember _not_ doing so - only - he also doesn't remember anything about Blaine running for Senior Class President at all.  “If I was such a bad boyfriend,” he says instead, lifted strange and bitter on a tide he doesn't quite understand, “then why do you even want to be with me again?”  And then he thinks - horror of horrors, and he lets go of his coffee cup for the first time, hands flying up to his mouth.  “Wait, you do, right?”

Blaine relaxes, and laughs.  Worst non boyfriend _ever_.  “I definitely do.”

“But if everything you just said is true, then - why?”

Blaine smiles at him, and he looks so damn _sure_ , somehow, and Kurt aches to feel that security with him, and when Blaine reaches across the table again, he takes his hand.  “Because I love you,” Blaine says, the same warmth in his eyes that Kurt's known for years, and he has to swallow the words his tongue wants to echo automatically back.  “And you love me, and we can make it work, I know we can.”  Kurt feels - all fizzy, hot and cold, his hands captured under Blaine's, eyes stuck on his, so wide open and full of love - and for a second, he can't move, because Blaine _sees_ the love that he still can't say.  He nods, just the tiniest tilt of his head, and Blaine smiles wider and lets go of his hands.  “Honestly, I even love the way you focus on things,” Blaine says.  “I think it's great, usually, it's just that it really hurts when you don't pay any attention to me.”

Kurt swallows again, and licks his lips.  Try to think.  “I'm sorry,” he says, honestly.  “I never wanted to hurt you.  I didn't think that I _was_ \- “

“Yeah, I guess I can see that,” Blaine says, and he shrugs.  His shoulders tilt in as well as up, uneasy, and Kurt’s never forgotten how to read him, and he thinks of something else.

“Do you think I'm ignoring you now?”

“Well,” Blaine says slowly, “it depends on what you want.  There's a lot of things we don't talk about anymore, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but - I don't know.  I want to be best friends, if you do, but I'm not sure that we are, right now.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, and curses himself.  Stupid, stupid, to let fear chase him away from what he wants.  “I do want to be.  Maybe it's hard sometimes, but I at least want to try.  And - wait.  Can I ask you another question?”

“Of course."”

“If you really want to be best friends with me, and you even asked me to stay here for Regionals, why didn’t you spend any time with me this week?”

Blaine practically explodes in laughter.  He kicks out his legs under the table, almost spills his coffee cup, and makes the most adorable scrunched-up face.  It’s wonderful to see, but it still doesn’t make any sense.  “Blaine?”

“Sorry,” Blaine says, and he waves a hand, and can't seem to stop laughing entirely.  “Um.  You probably don't want to know?  Like, I was making a plan, and given this whole conversation, it's probably a good thing that I didn't actually go ahead with it, but.  Just believe me when I say that it's really, really not because I didn't want to spend time with you.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, and now he's so curious.  “What sort of plan was it?  Something for me?”

“Yeah, for you,” Blaine says, “I'll tell you later.  I promise.  Not today.”

Kurt narrows his eyes.  “It was a song, wasn't it?  That's why you wouldn't let me come to Glee practice.  And - oh!  You went to the mall without asking me, did you get me a gift?  What is it?”

Blaine laughs, and puts his head in his hands.  “You could say that.”

Kurt drums his hands on the table.  “Tell me!”

“Make me!”

And they're both laughing, together, helplessly, and he's missed this so much, every day in New York.  “You will tell me later, won't you?” he asks.  He doesn't want to let this closeness go.  It's like magic, somehow, every time he's with Blaine, at Christmas and on Valentine's day at the wedding that wasn't and now this random late April day in the Lima Bean.  But he _has_ to go back to New York, he doesn't have a choice, and besides, he loves it there.  He just wishes he could take this happiness with him.  “I'll call you, when I get back to New York, okay?” he - asks?  Or promises?  He's not quite sure.

“You will?” Blaine says, and he knows, now it's a promise.

“I will.  And we'll talk about things, and I'll get you to tell me about your ridiculous plans, and can we talk about us again, too?  Because I still don't think I understand anything, but I want to, and I don't know why it feels like we can only really talk when we're together.”

“We can talk on the phone,” Blaine says, “remember?  We did it all the time when we first met.  We just got spoiled, last year, not having to.”

“Okay.  So I'll call you, and you'll explain to me why you cheated on me, and then we'll go from there.”

“Nice agenda,” Blaine says, and he's laughing again, but Kurt's laughing with him, too, so that's okay.  And both their coffees have long since grown cold, and Kurt's Dad is waiting for him at home for one last family dinner before he goes back to New York again.

And Kurt is going to miss this boy, so much, even though he still doesn't know what to do with him, even though the things they can't quite have still make his heart hurt.  So he says, “I have to go, my Dad will be waiting,” and Blaine stands up from the table even before he does, and they walk together out the door.

“I'm going to miss you so much,” he says, unable to halt time any longer, but not quite ready to part.

“Me too,” Blaine says, and Kurt looks at him and feels, now that he's trying to hold this moment against the inexorable tide of the future, like he's somehow never been more beautiful.  And yes, it's Lima, and yes, they're only friends, but he can't help it.  He draws Blaine closer and kisses him softly, closed lips on lips, just for a second.  When he lifts his head Blaine's eyes are closed, lashes long against his cheek, and Kurt watches as they open again.

“I'll talk to you soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> painful phone conversations, leavened with humor and woven through with care. the hardest is yet to come.

When Kurt gets back to New York, it welcomes him as a prodigal son, the sky fish-belly cloudy and gray.  He walks to classes and the dance studio and the little grocery store on the corner and then finally home, all day like a breath held in, waiting for the clouds to release their rain.  The storm doesn’t break.

He said he’d call Blaine.  It’s late enough now that he probably should.  Instead he chops the vegetables for soup, and thinks, maybe later, maybe tomorrow.  Maybe he will just as soon as he’s done.  He wants to talk to Blaine again, he does, he wants to somehow get through this mess and out the other side.  But he also kind of  _doesn’t_  want to hear, or think about, certain things anymore ever.  He puts the soup to simmer instead and gets out ingredients for pie.

Blaine texts him while he’s eating dinner,  _Do you still want to talk?_   He says, “it’s Blaine,” and Santana says “remind me again why you two aren’t back together yet?” and Rachel says, pointing her fork at both of them in turn, “it’s very important to keep on friendly terms with our exes, even when it’s hard,” and  _god_.  He loves them.  He loves Blaine, too.  Why is everyone he loves so  _annoying_?

He can’t shut himself in his room after dinner, why did he ever think open space living plans were a good idea.  So he turns on the white noise machine to its lowest setting and pushes it in front of the curtain instead.  Then he calls Blaine.

“Kurt!”

"Hi," he says, and wishes for the millionth time that his voice didn’t go up so high when he was nervous, or that Blaine didn’t know all his tells.

“Hey, are you okay?” Blaine asks gently.  “We can do this some other time, if you want.”

“I’m fine,” he says, “it’s just, well.  I guess we should talk.”

“Just a second,” Blaine says, and Kurt can hear a vague sound like maybe he’s riffling through papers with his other hand, and - 

“Wait,” he says, “did you make  _notes_?”

“Maybe?  I just wanted us to have a productive conversation, because I think we got derailed last time - ”

Kurt’s laughing, which really is such a relief, because he just can’t believe it, this boy.  “I love you so much,” he says, unthinking, and then realizes that he hasn’t said that in  _months_ , and what will Blaine make of it?

“I love you too,” Blaine says easily.  “Now.  You asked me to help you understand how I could cheat on you even though I still loved you, right?”

Kurt sits abruptly down on his bed; he doesn’t know why he ever thought he could have this conversation standing.  “If you can.  Then, yes.”

He can hear Blaine take a deep breath, too, on the other end of the line.  “And I want you to know that I’m not bringing this up to accuse you of anything, but just so we can use it as a point of reference.  But.  Do you remember Chandler?”

“With the text messages last year?” Kurt asks, confused.  “Yeah, why?”

“Um, because you were  _cheating_  on me with him, duh,” Blaine says.  “It’s fine now, it was a long time ago, but I just wanted to point out that you do know what it’s like to be the one cheating.”

“It wasn’t cheating,” Kurt argues, stubbornly, and shifts the phone to rest between his shoulder and chin, so he can pick at the loose threads on his comforter.  “I know you said it was, but it  _wasn’t_.  I never wanted to do anything with him.”

“Then why were you hiding his messages from me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to see them!” Kurt exclaims.  “I just wanted him to compliment me and I didn’t want you to be  _mad_ , it doesn’t mean I ever wanted to have  _sex_  with him!  I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

“It felt like cheating to me,” Blaine says.

“But  _why_?”

“Because you liked him more than you liked me, and… wow, I can’t believe I even need to explain this to you.”

“But I  _didn’t_ like him more!  I still loved  _you_!  Where are you even coming  _up_  with this stuff?”

“You were exchanging suggestive texts with him!  And ignoring me!  What was I supposed to think?”

“Oh my god,” Kurt sighs, exasperated.  “Why did I ever think we could do this?  When I said I wanted to talk with you, Blaine, I didn’t mean I wanted to  _fight_.”

“I don’t want to fight either,” Blaine says, “but I don’t understand.  Why can’t you just admit that you did something wrong?”

"I can!  I did!  I was wrong, and I stopped, there aren’t you  _happy_.  But it wasn’t cheating, even if you think it was, and I don’t think it’s  _relevant_.  So can we both just accept that and move on?”

There’s a little pause, and then Blaine says, “okay, I guess we can do that,” and Kurt wishes so badly that he could cross the distance again, just to see his face.  He can’t tell from here whether Blaine does think it’s okay or not, he can’t hold his hands to feel.  There’s a faint clicking noise on the other end of the line, and Blaine says, “so, do you want to move on to the next point on my list?”

He lets himself collapse backwards again, wary but ready.  “Is this something else I did wrong?”

“Nope, this one is something I like,” says Blaine, and Kurt smiles.

“Do go on.”

“Do you remember, when I told you that I had  - been with someone else - you said that you’d had temptations too?”

“Ohhhh.  Maybe?  I think so.  But wait, I’m confused, how is that something you like?”

“Because it’s hot?” Blaine says, and Kurt will never understand him what gets him going like this.  But it doesn’t matter, he always likes it, even if it’s not on topic right now.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, lilting, playing it up, and Blaine laughs.

“That’s not why I put it on the list, though,” he says, and yeah, that makes sense.

“So why did you?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I thought, maybe, I know you didn’t do anything with any of them, but maybe if the distance was hard for you too and you were even just _tempted_ , then maybe you would understand better why I did what I did.  And, um.  Is it really fucked up if I admit that I kind of wished that you did, after I cheated on you for a while, if I wished that I hadn’t been the only one?”

Kurt’s listening, and he’s trying so hard to absorb what Blaine’s saying, but he feels like his head is spinning, disoriented, like he’s been turned inside out and upside down.  Where is Blaine even getting all of this - any of this - from?  How could he  _ever_  have thought of wanting Kurt to cheat on him?  “Oh, sweetie,” he says helplessly, “I want you to be  _happy_ ,” and Blaine lets out the weirdest choked sound on the other end of the line.  “Aren’t you?”

“I think so, now, I mostly am,” says Blaine, “just - maybe not at this very moment - ”

“You can talk to me about it if you want,” Kurt says.  He may be confused about everything else, but it’s one thing he knows is true.

“Do you know what I would’ve done if you’d cheated on me?” asks Blaine.  “And this is the third item on the list, by the way.  Third and last.”

“Nooo…”

“I would’ve wondered what I’d done wrong.”

“Blaine,  _why_?” Kurt asks.  It’s not the only thing he wants to ask.  It’s just the only think he can think of.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just the thing to do?” Blaine says.  Kurt  _hates_ that he can hear his voice breaking, hates the way it keeps his frustration from turning to anger rather than sympathetic hurt.

“I never thought of it that way,” he says, honestly.  “Is there something I can do?”

“I know this is a lot to ask for,” says Blaine, “and you don’t have to - ”

“Anything.”

“Then, can you stay on the line with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.  And, oh, if you’d like to do it with me again, it’s almost time for the nightly skin sloughing routine?”

Blaine laughs, a sound like a sad little dragon snort.  “How could I ever forget?”

~

Kurt doesn’t sleep well, how could he after that, but he also doesn’t end up sleeping for long.  He puts his restlessness to best advantage by taking time over his morning coffee, making French toast with Rachel’s egg substitute while the dawn outside slowly occurs.

He goes into the office, says hello to Isabelle, wrangles the mess that Chase has made of her filing cabinet in the week that he’s been gone, and moves through everything in a bit of a haze.

Blaine had said…. Blaine had said a lot of things.  He’s not even sure what to make of them now, in the doubtful light of day.  He texts him over lunch,  _Are you feeling better today?_ and Blaine replies,  _Yeah, I’m sorry about last night_ , and Kurt sends back,  _You never need to be sorry with me_ , and he holds onto his phone for another half hour before he receives Blaine’s  _Thank you_  in reply _._

And then, later, when he’s ducking out of the library with a volume of Noel Coward’s plays for his monologue project, Blaine sends him another text.   _Do you want to talk about things again tonight?_

 _Call me at nine?_ Kurt says.

_Okay. :)_

_~_

“So, this is really about you,” Blaine says that night.

“If you say so?” Kurt says, doubtfully.  “I thought it was about both of us, but I really don’t know what I’m doing here, that’s why I asked for your help in the first place.”

“Well, I mean, I think that was the problem last night?  That I ended up talking about how I would’ve felt, instead of how you felt, because they’re not the same?” Blaine asks, and Kurt hums his acceptance.  “So!  Tonight I want you to tell me exactly why you’re still so upset over this.”

“Um, Blaine, you  _cheated_  on me?  Don’t you remember that?” Kurt asks.  This is fucking unbelievable.

“No, I know!  And I would’ve understood completely, if after that, you had decided never to speak to me again.  That’s actually what I thought you were doing for a while.  Or if you had just wanted to be friends and never anything more, or whatever, that would be completely your choice.  But it seems like you’re still really torn up about it, and I don’t like seeing you like that, so I’m just wondering why that is.”

“Because you cheated on me?” Kurt says again.  He’s not trying to be repetitive, but really.  “I’m serious, I don’t understand what you’re asking.  How could I  _not_ still be hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says.  “I mean, I think people are supposed to get over it, eventually, when they break up.  Like, Sam and Tina were telling me that I should be getting over you already all the way back in November.  But, honestly, I don’t understand how that could work either.  I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“Oh.”  Kurt considers.  “I am happy, mostly?  I love my classes, I love my job, living with Rachel and Santana is sometimes a terrifying adventure but it really is nice to have friends.  I just…” he sighs.  “I miss you, you know?”

“I miss you too,” Blaine says, in his ear, far too far away.

“I miss our future,” he says, and the tears start welling up in his eyes, he hasn’t cried about this since the day he was snowed in with Adam, but he can’t stop it now.  “The apartment we were going to have here, the anniversaries, the lighthouse.  I miss being able to think about what next year was supposed to be.”

“You still could,” Blaine says, and his voice is so soft, so comforting, that he almost makes it sound reasonable, but Kurt knows that it’s not.

“I can’t.”

“I wish I could give that to you.”

“I wish you could, too,” he sniffs.  “Did you know that no one else can?  But you can’t anymore, either, and it just - really sucks, sometimes - ”

“Hey, hey, hey baby,” Blaine says.  “Don’t cry.  We’ll figure it out.”

Kurt sits up against the headboard, and wipes his eyes.  “So.  What’s supposed to be the step after this?”

“Well, I had thought that maybe if I understood what was troubling you then I could fix it, but I guess I can’t after all.”

“Not really,” Kurt says.  “I can’t trust you to plan my future with anymore because you cheated on me, and I don’t know why, and I  _don’t understand you_  at all.  So unless you think you’re able to fix that - ”

“I want to try,” Blaine says.

“Then okay.  When you call me tomorrow, see if you can walk me through the process of what you did in your head.  Don’t try to say how it’s similar to things that I’ve done, don’t try to get into my head and find ways around that, just tell me what I’m asking you, okay?  Can you do that?”

“Do you think it’ll be enough?” Blaine asks.

“I don’t know.  We’ll see.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the crux of the matter. this is the hardest part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot possibly thank mockanddee enough for beta-ing/alpha-ing/debugging/etc. if this story works at all, i just want to say, it wouldn't have without her. <3.

Kurt falls asleep on the couch after he gets off the phone with Blaine on Tuesday night, curled up between Rachel and Santana for a comfort marathon of  _Gilmore Girls_.  Sometime around one, Rachel shakes him back awake and he stumbles into bed.

It’s been such a long week already, and it’s only barely Wednesday.

~ 

He carries a creeping sense of dread on his back all day.  It’s true that he asked Blaine to call, to tell him things, and to explain, but just because he asked for it doesn’t mean he really wants it after all.  The closer the hour creeps, the more he wants instead to stick his fingers in his ears and sing.

And he could, he knows.  Figuratively.  Blaine would postpone the call if he asked, would talk about happy and inconsequential things, would even leave him alone.  But he doesn’t want Blaine to leave him alone.  He doesn’t want to keep  _missing_ him anymore.  Even though he’s not sure what progress they’ve made, he felt a sort of comfort in crying into his ear last night instead of the pillow, in hearing Blaine speak so softly to him.  He yearns to bury himself back in the closeness they once had again.

And if this is what he has to do to get it back, well then, he can manage.  He’s certainly dealt with worse.

~

He takes Bruce out of his box tonight, after dinner, and lies down in his unnaturally still embrace with his phone in his hand, waiting for Blaine to call.

He’s so tired, still, from the last couple nights, that’s he’s halfway to sleep already when the phone goes off.  It’s the tinny sound of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream,” and for a second he imagines that he’s at a concert, and Blaine is there with him, and then he remembers.

“Blaine,” he says, voice thick with sleep, and pulls the arm of the pillow around himself.  He’s going to need all the shields tonight that he can get.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks, and  _he_  sounds great, he always does.  Damn perfect non boyfriend.

“I’m fine, I was just napping,” he says.  “You’re not tired?”

“Um, no.”  Blaine’s silent for five seconds, and then ten, and fifteen, while Kurt just listens to his breathing.  He could do this all night, he thinks; it’s much more soothing than the alternative, whatever that is.  It’s almost like cuddling to lie here with the phone to his ear and Bruce’s solid poly-fiber chest behind his back.  He drifts between sleep and wakefulness for a little while, and eventually Blaine says, “you wanted me to tell you things,” and he blinks his eyes back open.

“I did,” he says, and tries to think what to say next.  They’ve been trying and trying to get at this, over these last few days, and the continued failure has been so frustrating, and he doesn’t know how, but he wants so badly to finally get it  _right_.  So he tries, “can you tell me what made you decide to cheat on me?  Step by step, don’t leave anything out, just tell me what you were thinking and why.”

“That’s kind of a tall order,” Blaine says.  “But, okay.  Should I start now?”

“Please do.”

“The first thing that you should know is, I was feeling really horrible after you left last fall.”

“I remember, you told me,” Kurt says.  “Because I was ignoring you and stuff.”

“No - I mean, yes, but it wasn’t just that.  I was feeling - are you even there?  I wish you were here with me.”

“I wish I was too,” he says, and turns to cuddle Bruce closer.  He can tell this is going to be hard already, and  _why_  can’t he just be there with Blaine.  But he listens, intently, because that seems to be the only thing he can do.

“I felt like I was drowning.  I had - no clue what I was doing, and no one was listening to me anymore, not at school, not my friends who were busy off at college, not even my boyfriend.  You had  always been the only person who saw me when no one else did, and when you stopped, it was just like there was no one who could see me at all anymore, like no one cared.  It was like I was invisible, and I just felt like, why shouldn’t I be, it’s not like anything I did really  _mattered_  - ”

“But you  _do_  matter,” Kurt says.  His throat feels dry already, his head hurts, and he can’t imagine how Blaine could feel like this, when he’s so bold and shining, the brightest star in every room.

“I didn’t think so,” says Blaine, and Kurt wants to argue, to say,  _how could you ever doubt it?_

“But you’re so  _wonderful_ ,” he insists, “at just - at everything,” and Blaine makes a choking noise on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I know.”

“And I mean - I’m always so proud of you - ” Kurt says, tries, desperately, because he doesn’t know why but that always seems to work on Blaine.

“Not of this,” Blaine says, and he sounds like he’s going to cry.

Kurt doesn’t know what to do, how to stop him.  “It’s okay,” he says, helpless and bewildered at how they’ve ended up here.  He never thought he’d be comforting Blaine over this, but now that Blaine seems to need it he doesn’t give it a second thought.  Blaine’s breath is gasping, scarily erratic, on the other end of the line, and Kurt just repeats himself, over and over,  _you’re okay, you’re okay_ , like a mantra, for both of them.

“Okay, I’m okay,” Blaine says back, shakily, and they both laugh the tension off a little.  “I should probably tell you what happened next.”

“If you think you can,” Kurt says, shaken.

“Yeah,” Blaine says, and Kurt wants to text him,  _courage_ , wants to press the letters into his skin.  Instead he just grips the phone tighter, and waits.  “So.  I felt like you had really - checked out of the relationship - I’m not saying you had, I’m just saying, that’s how I felt.  And, I mean, why wouldn’t you, I couldn’t blame you, even, you had this amazing new life in New York, and I was just - nothing compared to that.”

“I was always waiting for you,” Kurt says softly, and he can only hear Blaine’s faint indrawn breath, can’t see if there’s a smile.  He hopes there is.

“And so,” Blaine continues.  “There was one day, in October, when this had been going on for - almost six weeks, already?  And I missed you so much, and when I told you so, you didn’t even seem to care, and it was - a really bad day.  And you had called me up just to cancel our phone date for that night, and you hung up before I even had a chance to say goodbye, and so of course I was hurt, and then I was actually a little mad too.  Like, why wasn’t I worth paying attention to?  And there was this guy, okay, who had left me a few flirty messages on Facebook, and I thought, I know this is really shitty, but I felt like it was literally the only thing left that I could do just to be happy for a little while.  And if it fucked everything up with us, well then, so what, I felt like that was probably already fucked up beyond repair.  And so I poked him on Facebook and I went to his house and I had sex with him… and do you know what happened then?”

“No,” Kurt whispers.  His fingers are shaking, between his face and the phone, and he doesn’t know why.  “What happened?”

“After I did it, I don’t know why, it was like all these clouds in my head suddenly cleared for a moment and I realized that we weren’t over at all.  Like, somehow… I just knew that you still loved me, and that you hadn’t been ignoring me because you didn’t care, but because you just get that way sometimes - and that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, but Kurt, I knew that I had been wrong about us.  For weeks.  And that was probably the worst moment I’ve ever had in my life, because I realized that I had destroyed the most important thing to me for no real reason at all.”  Blaine is crying, now, Kurt can hear it, over the phone; and he’s crying too, silently.

“Oh,” he says.  He doesn’t know how to breathe.  He doesn’t know how to  _think_.  “Okay.  Well.  Thank you for telling me.”

“What do you - I don’t know how to ask this,” Blaine says.  “But what do you think of me now?”

“I don’t know.”  Kurt cries, harder; he’s supposed to make a judgment like  _this_?  And, fuck it, Bruce isn’t any use after all.  He can’t cuddle back, he’s not  _Blaine_.  He sits up and throws the pillow overboard.  “What are you trying to ask?”

“Do you still love me?”

“Do I - Blaine.  I think we both learned this past year that I can’t actually stop.”

“I’m so glad you do,” Blaine says, “thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me for that,” Kurt says.  But he still doesn’t know what to say, how to respond to everything else that Blaine’s said.  Well, he knows one thing.  “I feel horrible that you felt so horrible, mostly.  And that I didn’t even know about it.  I wish I could’ve helped.”

“I wish you had, too,” says Blaine, slowly, “but it’s not your fault that I felt that way.  You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, nodding, wet cheek against the phone, “I just wish you hadn’t.  And you don’t feel like that anymore, do you?  It seems like you’re okay now.”

“Oh, no, I don’t.  I mean, talking about it brings a little of it back, so I’m kind of upset right now, which you can probably tell.  But mostly I think it was more about friends, like, it wasn’t just about us, but that I felt so alone over all.  And Sam’s been a really great friend to me since we did Grease together, and he joined the superheroes club with me and helped me run a food drive and repaint the school and all sorts of awesome stuff, so now I really think I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s good,” says Kurt, awkwardly.  “I guess I should thank him for that.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Blaine says, and he sounds steadier again.  “So, um.”  He takes a deep breath, and Kurt does too; they both need it, probably, a breath of fresh air, after all that.  “Do you feel like you understand things any better?  Like you wanted?”

“Not really,” Kurt says, honestly.  Blaine’s voice is so warm again now - but it had been so fractured earlier, describing a side of the boy he loves that he’s somehow never even seen before, and he’s kind of frightened.  He can’t comprehend how the things he’s just been told fit together, and he holds the pieces loosely in his mind, like jagged glass.  “I need to think about it, is that okay?  If I take a little time?”

“Take all the time you need,” Blaine says, “I’ll be waiting here for you,” and that, there, that safety and assurance, is still everything he wants, if he can have it.

“Good night, then,” he says.  “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good night, love.”

~

The next day’s Thursday.  A busy day, he can’t skip anything, he has four classes and two of them are in the studio.  But he worries on the new information he has, like a dog on a bone, in every splinter of spare time that he gets.

 _Blaine was hurting so badly_.

 _He never told me_.

 _He cheated on me because he thought that our relationship was over anyway_.

 _He thought I didn’t want him anymore_. _He even thought I shouldn’t._

_How could he have been so wrong?_

He had hoped for something reassuring, when Blaine finally told him, even if he couldn’t imagine what that could possibly be; he had hoped for something that would at least make some  _sense_.  This is neither.  He feels like he’s finally peered into Blaine’s head, and instead of the beauty that he’d unconsciously expected, confusing and dangerous things lurk inside.  Like a tangle of electric wires, or a jungle at night, or something out of  _The Matrix._

Which he had only agreed to watch because Blaine wanted to, and why does everything he ever think about have to come back to that.

He doesn’t understand what happened -  _Blaine was feeling that bad, and that was the only thing, but then, why wasn’t I instead, but I wasn’t_  - and he stumbles, and gets lost in his own head.

He burns with shame that he wasn’t there for Blaine when he needed him so badly, and anger at the way his heart can’t quite be made to accept  _I didn’t know_  as an excuse for that, no matter how true it is.  He didn’t know, Blaine didn’t tell him, he didn’t know what Blaine was doing then, and now that he that he does know there’s nothing he can do about it, cut off from it by time as well as space.

~

He doesn’t know what he had wanted, anyway.

He doesn’t think there is a better answer than this, despairing, as his shoes crunch the gravel of the campus paths.  Blaine’s told him everything, and the explanation that he’s been both craving and dreading for so long turns out to be no explanation at all.

He turns a corner, opens a doorway, starts up the stairs to his favorite study nook at the end of the hall, and all he can hear is Blaine’s voice, cracked and bleeding - and Blaine’s other voice, soothing and loving and whole.  He still yearns to sink into it, to do nothing more than  _be with Blaine_ , in every sense of the word, but he’s stuck here, in New York - and Blaine had cheated on him -

Because he was hurt, because he was lonely, in a way that Kurt can’t even fathom.

He’d thought, afterwards, that he didn’t know Blaine, and it’s true, there was something in him that he didn’t know.  But he also does know a lot of Blaine, still, so many things that Blaine has been to him through this long winter and spring.  Comfort and a shared burden of care in the face of his father’s ill health, inexhaustible patience and kindness against the stubborn uncertainty of his heart, unquestioning love that’s been there every time he’s reached out.  He wants to wrap around him, again, to make promises and plan for the sheer joy of tomorrow….

And the wall he once hit, every time he thought about this, has changed.  It’s not  _but he cheated_  anymore, it’s more amorphous than that, so much bigger but flimsier too.  He still feels like he’s in limbo, but it’s a different one now, it’s changed.  He thinks of Blaine, and the future they once had together, and there’s no wall there, anymore, he just - tries to look around, to find his footing, and doesn’t know where he can go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more comfort, and conversations. communication isn’t always easy, but it helps when you try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many thanks to mockanddee for beta-ing again <3.

Kurt hasn’t come to any conclusions by Thursday evening, and in any case, the homework that he’s been putting off in favor of conversations these last few nights has piled up.  He’d better do that instead, and there’ll be plenty of time for thinking about things with Blaine again tomorrow.

So he studies music theory for a while, and looks at his book of plays.  He does the sketches for his elective costume design class three times over, but eventually realizes he’s making them worse every time, and decides to give up for the night.  He’s so tired - of course he is, there hasn’t been much time for sleep lately - but when he looks at the clock it’s just past ten, and he doesn’t want to go to bed quite yet.

It’s not too late to call Blaine.

~

“Hey, how’re you doing?” Blaine answers the phone.

Kurt relaxes automatically into the sound of his voice.  “I’m good, just tired,” he says, “and you?”

“I’m okay.”  Blaine pauses.  “Did you - um.  Want to tell me anything?”  He sounds tense - nervous, probably - and it takes Kurt a moment to remember why that might be.

“Oh!  No, no - is that okay?  I assumed - ”

“Yeah, that’s fine, totally, we can just talk.”

“Great!  Because I really wanted to tell you about some of the absolute fashion _atrocities_  they’re teaching us in costume design class….”

And he does; but Blaine doesn’t just listen to his complaints about decorative bows, he somehow gets started defending them, and then they veer into a dissection of the whole history of the New Directions’ competition costumes, and eventually, somehow, Blaine’s updating him on the newest gossip in glee club.

“Did you know that Sam and Tina are dating now?”

“And Tina didn’t tell me!?”

“Well, it’s not exactly public yet.”

“Oooh, scandalous….”

The conversation is so easy, even though the thought of anyone dating still makes him think of him-and-Blaine, and how and why  they’re not.  Even though the memory of Blaine’s confession still  _hurts_ , he doesn’t get stuck on it the way he used to, doesn’t need Blaine’s smile and his touch just to pull him safely past the thought.

Mr. Schue’s assignment this week is The Beatles, and when Blaine sings “Twist and Shout” to him over the phone, he sounds far better than anyone should on that song unaccompanied.  Eventually Kurt looks over at the clock again, and sees that it’s past midnight, and says “sorry, I really should get some sleep.”

“Oh, wow, yeah!  I didn’t realize the time.  Hey, can we talk again tomorrow?”

Kurt giggles.  “Why are you even asking that question?  Yeah, call me.”

~

He sleeps well that night, finally.  As he drifts off he dreams of arms and a bed that might still feel like  _home_ , states away, for the first time in months.

~

Friday all day is rushing around, classes in the morning and swinging by the office for a couple hours before Isabelle leaves in the evening just to touch base, and Friday night he never goes out.

Yes, they’re all young, in New York City, he and Rachel and Santana, and they want to make the most of it.  They do!  But they can go to parties every night - although they almost never do - Friday nights are for family dinners together.  They all crowd into the tiny kitchen, singing while they work, not singing while they eat, and then singing and dancing, too, in the open space of the apartment once they’ve digested the food enough to start moving again.

It’s kind of the best thing ever.

Blaine calls while Rachel and Santana are in the middle of “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better,” and Kurt puts him on speakerphone.  Somehow they end up singing “Red and Black” together - Blaine takes Marius, and Rachel’s a surprisingly fantastic Enjolras - and then they do doubled leads on “A Boy Like That” and “Tonight” and “One Hand, One Heart”…

And yes, it’s poor sound quality and kind of ridiculous trying to sing with someone on speakerphone.  But still.   _This_  is the best thing ever, after all.

~

On Saturday Kurt goes back to the flea market.  He hasn’t been in weeks - that’s definitely one of the downsides of staying in Lima too long - and he still needs to find some fabric to use for Santana’s chair renovation project.

One of the vendors has vintage Brooks Brothers suits, from the sixties, and Kurt barely thinks for a second wondering  _is this too much?  But we’ve been talking every day since I came back so far_ , before snapping a picture and sending it to Blaine anyway.  He loves things just like this, Kurt knows, and you can never find them in Lima.

Blaine replies, and they text on and off for a while, Kurt sending him pictures of the market’s highlights, and Blaine’s always interesting commentary on menswear makes the bright afternoon even better.  At one point Blaine says,  _You’re going to have to take me there next time I visit New York_.

Kurt grins at his phone, and types out,  _Of course. When are you coming?_

_My NYADA audition is next Saturday. Can I stay with you?_

_Looking forward to it!_

~

On Sunday Kurt eats an early breakfast, promises Rachel that they can practice duets again in the afternoon, and goes out to sit in the park.

The last few days have been really good, but he needs to think.

If he wants to be with Blaine at all - and of course, he does, that’s honestly  _never_ been a question - he still has to figure out how.

Blaine has always loved him.  Blaine doesn’t actually think that cheating is  _okay_.  These things are nice to know, he supposes, even if it’s possible that he should’ve known them all along.  But he couldn’t be quite sure, until he talked to Blaine again - and yeah, they’re nice.  He clings to them, a bit, as he tries to sift deeper, to somehow wrap his mind around the things that Blaine told him the other night.

It had hurt, before, to even think of Blaine cheating.  But now it hurts more, and differently, because Blaine had been hurting so much to do it, and he hadn’t even known.

He hadn’t  _helped_.

Without really thinking, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Blaine _, Hey, do you remember the time machine you wanted to make?_

_Yeah, why?_

_Would you let me borrow it?_  he types senselessly.

_Of course. What for?_

And again, more questions he doesn’t know how to answer.   _Kurt?_   He just sits there, shaking his head at his phone.   _Are you okay?_

 _I’m fine_ , he wants to type, because he is, really, but he also kind of doesn’t want to tell that to Blaine -

The phone rings.  Of course.

“Blaine?”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Blaine says.  “You can use my time machine for whatever you need.  You don’t even have to tell me, alright, just make sure you put it back when you’re done.”

Kurt laughs, he can’t help it.  “Thank you.”

“So,” Blaine asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

Kurt leans back on his bench, and looks up at the sky.  “I don’t know,” he says, honestly.

“Hm, okay.  Should I let you go?”

“Not yet,” Kurt says, quickly, and kicks himself abruptly upright again.  How to say this.  “I’ve been trying to think about the things you told me.”

“Oh?  Have you, um, come to any decisions?”

“No,” Kurt laughs, “stop  _asking_ me!  I’ll tell you if I do, I promise.  Actually… can I ask you a few more questions?”

“Sure,” Blaine says, and Kurt just can’t  _tell_.  Is he worried?  Is he at ease?

And, also, he realizes, he doesn’t actually know what he wants to ask.  Which is a problem.  He fidgets with the phone and chews on his lip.  “Um, Kurt?  Are you still there?” Blaine asks.

“Sorry!  I’m trying to think!”  Frantically, and it’s not  _working._

“Well, what are you trying to think about?”

I don’t know, I don’t  _know_.  What do I  _want_  to be thinking about _._   “The future?”

“And not in a time machine sense, I’m assuming.”

“No, not really.”

“But us.”

“Yeah…” he says, wistfully.  “Do you really think we can have one again?”

“I know we can, if you want us to,” Blaine says.  “Because I definitely do.  And if we do, I just want to promise you now, so that you can know and be sure of me, that I’ll never cheat on you again.”

“Can you promise that, though?” Kurt asks, wondering.  “Because you would’ve said the same thing before, and - I’ve forgiven you already, of course, but I do want to know - “

“I think I can now,” Blaine says.  “For one thing, I know from experience now that hooking up with someone else when I’m missing you doesn’t make me feel less alone.  And for another thing, I’ve seen now just how much it hurt you when I did it, and Kurt, I could  _never_  do that to you again.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, thinking.  Considering.  He’d thought that he’d have to figure this out on his own, but maybe talking about it with Blaine really is the way to go.  “So what would you do, now, you think, if you felt that lonely again?”

“I’m not sure,” Blaine says.  “Not that, again, but - I don’t know.  Nothing, really, I guess.  Why, what do you think I should do?”

“Could you call me?” Kurt asks, because, that’s all he wants, to be able to help, to stay  _connected_  to this boy, and to have a clue about what’s going on in his head, even when they’re hundreds of miles apart.

“I could try,” Blaine says, doubtfully.  “But, I mean, that was the problem in the first place, because you weren’t listening to me even when we did talk.”

“I want to, though,” Kurt says, roughly.  “Blaine, please tell me that you believe me when I say that.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

And Kurt just - can’t even do anything with his frustration.  He squeezes his eyes closed, and counts to five.  “Promise me.  Please.  That if I start ignoring you again, if I start making you feel like I don’t care, that you will  _tell_  me that that’s what I’m doing.  Because I don’t want to, because I’d never want to do that, but if it’s something that I can do without  _knowing_  - ”

“I’ll say something,” Blaine says.

“Don’t  _let_  me,” Kurt says, desperately.

“I promise, I’ll try.”

Kurt relaxes, inch by inch, and feels self-consciousness come creeping back over him.  “Thank you,” he says, and breathes out.  “And thanks for talking to me about all this, too.  It’s helping, I think.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Blaine says, “and I’m glad.”

“I feel kind of bad about that, though,” Kurt says.  “Like, is it horrible if I’m glad that when you cheated on me it wasn’t something you wanted to do?  I don’t want you to ever think I’m glad that you felt that way - ”

“No, that makes sense,” Blaine says, “I think I understand.”

“You’re amazing,” Kurt says, and looks up at the trees.  “And the park is so beautiful today, I wish you were here with me.”

“Well, I’ll be there next week,” Blaine says.

“I know!” Kurt says, and cradles the phone.  It can’t come fast enough.

~

Monday night, he calls Blaine again, between dinner and homework.  It’s becoming a pattern, he knows, but it doesn’t have to mean they’re anything more than friends.  It’s just that he wants to  _talk_  to Blaine, and Blaine wants to talk to him too.  So he waits as the phone rings for a while, and when Blaine finally picks up, he says, “Hey, I’m hanging out with Sam right now, it’s movie night, is it okay if I call you back?”

“Oh, sure, I wasn’t calling for anything,” Kurt says.  “I just wanted to talk if you had time, but it’s cool if you don’t.  Have fun, oh, and say hi to Sam for me!”

“Okay, I will,” says Blaine.

“Okay,” Kurt says, waiting for the goodbye.

“Well, later, I love you, bye.”

Kurt grins.  “Goodbye!”

~

Blaine actually does call back, later, when it’s almost midnight.  “I just wanted to say goodnight,” he says.

Kurt’s not sure why, but he finds this the sweetest thing, Blaine treating him like his boyfriend again although he’s really not right now.  It’s all the romance, he guesses, without any of the pressure.  “Goodnight to you too,” he says, smiling into the phone.

“And I thought maybe we could make it a better night too?”

Kurt laughs.  “ _Blaine!_   I am not having phone sex with you again until we get back together.”

“Okay, whatever,” Blaine laughs.  “I just thought that maybe you’d want to.”

“Oh, I  _want_  to,” Kurt says, “I’m just not  _going_  to.  Go get off by yourself, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaine says, giggling.  “But, Kurt, that was kind of hot too.”

“Goodnight,” says Kurt, “and I, for one, am going to bed now.  By  _myself_.”

“Well, that’s nice to know.”

And Kurt loves the warmth of Blaine’s voice around him, loves the comfort and familiarity of it maybe even more than the undercurrent of heat, but he’s not ready to blur the lines like this, not right now.  “Blaine, good _night_.”

~

So that was Monday - a good day, like many others.  Tuesday feels like spring.  Neither Kurt nor Rachel have many classes that day, so they do something they’ve been meaning to do for a while and bring Santana with them to explore NYADA’s campus for a day.  Two at a time, and all three together, they spend the day walking every path, pointing out sights and poking their noses into places where they’re not supposed to go.  It’s exhilarating, as if the whole world has suddenly become a playground or a maze, and he guesses that this is what college is supposed to feel like.  The freedom isn’t like high school at all.

And on his now almost nightly phone call with Blaine, Blaine pauses in the midst of recounting his attempts to build an Iron Man suit with Sam to say, “actually, there’s something I should probably tell you.”

“Hmm, what?” Kurt asks.  He can’t think of anything Iron Man related that he’d really care about, but he’s always curious about what Blaine thinks he should know.

“It’s about Sam.  And how I, um, kind of have a crush on him.”

“Okay,” Kurt says.  “So why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you things!” Blaine says.

“Not about how much you like other guys!”

“I guess I just wanted you to know,” Blaine says.  “You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to feel like there are things I can’t share with you.”

“Okay,” Kurt huffs.  “Fine.  What’s the deal with Sam, anyway?  Is it just because he’s hot, because I promise you, that’s not going to make him any more gay.”

“It’s not  _just_  that!”  Blaine says.  “I mean, he is really hot - like, wow.  Do you remember his  _lips?_   But he’s also such a really cool guy, and he’s funny, and he’s been such a good friend to me this past year, and he always… I don’t know, sees when people need help, and tries to step in.  And I just really, really  _like_  him, you know?”

“How much like are we talking about here?” Kurt asks.  “Just a crush?  Because that sounds like a  _lot_.”  He’s not worried, though; he’s  _not_.

“Just a crush, yeah,” Blaine says.  “It’s not, like, love or anything.  Why?”

He can’t say  _because I thought you loved me_ , because anyway, Blaine  _does_ ; he can’t say  _because you’re mine_ , because it’s not true on his end, right now, and in any case, it doesn’t mean anything here.  And he can’t just say  _why are you telling me_  again, because the fact is that Blaine had wanted to tell him, and even when it sucks to hear certain things, he really does want to know what Blaine’s thinking.  “No reason,” he says, finally.  “Was there something you wanted me to say?”

“About Sam?  Not really,” Blaine laughs, “but come on now, tell  _me_.  What about all the cute guys you’ve met at NYADA?”

“I don’t really know any,” Kurt demurs.

“Well - hm.  What about that guy you went out with, what was his name, Aiden?”

“Adam,” Kurt says, “and… I don’t know.  It didn’t go anywhere for a reason, you know?”

“What, was he ugly or something?”  Blaine’s teasing him, and it’s always so cute, it makes Kurt wish they could stop talking and he could kiss him.  Sometimes he hates the telephone.

“No!  He was cute, and nice, and funny, I guess, if you like that sort of British hipster thing.  I just couldn’t really get into him because he wasn’t  _you_.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, suddenly sounding pleased.  “Why did you go out with him if you weren’t interested, though?”

Kurt shrugs.  “He was interested in me, and it made me feel good, and I thought that maybe I could make something more out of it?  And I was trying to get over you, of course,” he grins into the phone, “because you  _cheated_  on me - ”

“I’m sorry!”

“I know!” Kurt laughs, and it feels so good, to be able to make light of it, finally, after all this time.  “Anyway, it didn’t work.”

“I’m so glad,” Blaine says.

“Me too.”

~

On Wednesday, Kurt makes plans.  He’s trying to figure out a schedule for the weekend, and a menu for Friday night, at least, something he can cook in advance.  Because Blaine will be there for their family dinner!

“You think we’re all going to have a family dinner when mister gel head shows up?” Santana asks, when he babbles at her about it.

“Yes,” Kurt says, “and I don’t know why you’re even trying to pretend that you’re not friends with all of us, Santana, we’re not in high school anymore.”

“Oh, it’s not about that.  But you guys are thinking about getting back together, right?”

Kurt nods.  He hasn’t known how to talk about it, and so he doesn’t know exactly what Santana thinks she knows, but he’s glad enough that she knows  _something_ , anyway.  It makes him feel less alone.

“And you know that I don’t want to see any of that.  So I’ll go out with Berry, we’ll have fun for a few hours, and you guys can have all the fun you want here, okay?  Just don’t mess up the couch.”

“He’ll be here around eight,” Kurt says, scarlet, and flees.

“We’ll be gone till midnight!” Santana calls through the curtain, and Kurt twitches.  He’ll thank her later, he hopes, after everything’s done.

~

Thursday’s busy, Thursday is always busy.  But this week it’s also so  _exciting!_   Blaine is coming, in just one more day, Blaine is coming to visit  _him!_

Of course, they did just see each other a couple of weeks ago.  Less than that, even.  The fact that he feels like this is kind of ridiculous.

But they’ve been talking so much, and texting each other, and he feels closer to Blaine, he realizes, than he has in a long time - closer than he’s felt to  _anyone_  in such a long time -

And Blaine’s coming here,  _Blaine’s coming here_ , he walks home sedately with a reasonable smile on his face, but he’s skipping the whole way in his mind.  He can’t wait.

Will they actually get back together?  He turns the question over in his mind, and he still doesn’t know.  Blaine feels like more of a stranger to him, now, in some ways, than he has in some time.  But he’s such a charming stranger, so fascinating, and as the days go by Kurt only wants him more and  _more -_

And he’ll be here, tomorrow, and he’ll get to see his face again, to hold his hand, to talk in person, finally, and they can even have sex again.  Why shouldn’t they?  He feels safe with it, now, in the resilience of the unnamed connection they have; he feels safe, and he wants it, his whole body  _sings_.

And he has a plan.  He knows it sounds silly, but the truth is - he’s having such a hard time thinking things through that this might be the only way to go.  Maybe when they have sex again - because he wants to anyway, and he knows Blaine does too - well, maybe he’ll just  _know._  If they can do this thing again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine comes to visit Kurt in New York! And they have sex! Also some conversations, since that appears to be the theme of this fic, conversations everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mockanddee remains the best beta a girl could ask for. thank you bb. <3

_Blaine’s coming on Friday!_

Kurt doesn’t leave work early that day - there’s no way that he could justify it, Blaine won’t get in for hours yet - but he does rush the whole way home.   When he gets back to the apartment, he showers, does his hair, throws together a last-minute salad and checks again on everything else in the fridge, just waiting to be warmed up.  Then he fidgets with the decorations on the table, trying out different centerpiece arrangements until Santana and Rachel decide to leave early.

He needs to choose another outfit.  This one is gray and subdued green with sleek lines, it says  _fashionable New York sophisticate_ , but it doesn’t say  _welcome_ , or  _Blaine_ , or, most importantly,  _sex_ …

He has no less than fourteen pairs of pants that say  _my ass looks fantastic_ , and even more combinations of shirts and vests that do wonderful things for his chest.  He has, because he once spent ages fantasizing and putting together, several outfits that say  _take me, I’m yours_ , but that’s not quite exactly what he wants right now, either.  So he holds pieces up to himself in front of the mirror, and changes his mind completely three times, and he’s lost track of how many variations he’s considered by the time Blaine knocks on the door.

~

He opens it, and Blaine closes the door behind himself, sets down his suitcase, and falls into his arms.

Kurt’s kissing him, immediately, it wasn’t even a decision, but his mouth is on Blaine’s, trying to drink him in, his chest and legs and body are pushed as close to him as they can go, his hands are cupping Blaine’s ass and pulling him closer, squeezing him, unable to let go, because he just wants everything of this boy.  Blaine pulls back to take a breath, and Kurt licks, breathless, up the ridge of his nose.

“Are you sure?” Blaine asks, his hands restless on Kurt’s sides, already struggling to make words.  “This is what you want?”

Kurt kisses him again, he needs to feel him so much more than to hear, and every bit of desire satisfied feeds back on itself to make him want even more.  He licks so hungrily into Blaine’s mouth, and on the way back out, scrapes his tongue up against the sharpness of his teeth, and licks the divot of his upper lip.  “You know what I want,” he says, breathless, and turns his face to press his cheek against Blaine’s.  His tongue darts out, twisting against the smooth give of Blaine’s skin, and he begs with every line of his body,  _you know what I want when I kiss you like this, this is a language we invented together, tell me you remember it, please._

“Okay,” Blaine says, and nods.  His voice is rough, his eyes dark and pupils blown; it’s the same call-and-response they’ve used since the beginning, and Kurt falls into it completely.

Blaine’s hands come up to hold his jaw, his fingers fan down to press points of fire on Kurt’s neck, and Kurt loosens his mouth, lets go of his body, as he liquefies into the heat of Blaine’s kiss.  His skin seems to melt into Blaine’s where they touch; his breath goes dizzy and shuddery, and he feels himself lost, delirious, in an endless loop of desire.  He could stay like this forever, but eventually Blaine draws back, and Kurt blinks himself back to earth to watch where he’s going now.

Blaine reaches behind himself to take Kurt’s hands from his back where they’ve anchored themselves, and brings them separately by the wrists to swing in the scant space he moves to make between their bodies.  “Come to bed,” he says, voice gravelled and low, and Kurt nods, caught like a fish by the gentle touch.  Blaine holds his gaze and his body so perfectly, and he turns them around without letting go, a breathless grin on his face.  He leads Kurt by both hands to the curtain that stands in for the door of his room, and without hesitation pulls him through.

Kurt stands there for a moment, in front of his bed, filled to the brim with waiting and wanting, and for the first time in this city Blaine undresses him.  His fingers are fast on the buttons, but careful, and when he’s finished with the vest and the shirt he pushes them roughly off Kurt’s shoulders together, and Kurt shivers.  He kneels down to undo Kurt’s belt and zipper, pushes his briefs and pants down to his thighs, and leans forward to lick at the side of his cock.

It feels almost literally like a shock, after so long, not quite of pleasure, but some feeling that can’t be categorized beyond pure sensation, and it makes Kurt jerk his hips, unthinking.  Blaine gets his hands around them and his lips around the head and sinks downwards and  _sucks_ , and the pleasure Kurt feels is so much, too much, he’s gasping and drowning because it’s so good, in the gentle scalding ocean that is Blaine’s mouth, and he’s forgotten how to hold the size of this anymore.  He puts a hand on Blaine’s forehead and pushes him back, and Blaine’s jaw opens wider and releases him.

“Too much?”

Blaine’s smirking up at him, and he nods shakily, curling his hands into almost-fists on his broad shoulders.  “Yeah.”

So Blaine shuffles back a bit and unlaces Kurt’s boots, just enough to pull them off, peels off pants and socks and underwear all together, and stands up again to undress himself.  Kurt watches, impatient, skin itching for his, as his red-and-black striped bowtie comes off, as his red polo is unbuttoned and pulled over his head, and Kurt presses forward with his hands rubbing to feel every last inch of his lover’s skin, over Blaine’s pecs and down to his belly, as Blaine unfastens and pushes down his own pants.

Blaine’s cock springs up, flushed and thick and always so perfect to touch, and Kurt pulls him closer, again, needs him closer, always closer.  His cock rubs against Blaine’s and the softness of Blaine’s belly; the base of Blaine’s cock, as he tilts them even more together, feels so wonderfully hard against his balls.  He lifts up on his toes and down again, and Blaine’s cock is thrust right between his thighs, his own pressed straight up against the smooth skin of Blaine’s belly, and Blaine reaches around to press the give of Kurt’s cheeks closer around his shaft.  “Missed you so much,” he murmurs, and Kurt, overwhelmed, buries his face in Blaine’s shoulder, licking hard there to draw out the taste.  He bites gently at the muscle that cords from neck to arm, and it feels so much like home.

Eventually Blaine steps back to finish undressing, and Kurt scrambles onto the bed to watch.   _Come here, come here_ , he thinks, impatient, and kicks his legs high in the air, until Blaine nearly trips when his last pants leg gets caught on his shoe, and recovers, and climbs up on the bed to be with him too.

Kurt beckons, with just one finger, and Blaine comes - crawling on hands and knees to hold himself above Kurt’s body, and kisses him there, again and again, surrounding him with lips and tongue and arms and legs that he wriggles against to feel, like a cage of  _Blaine_  around his body, and a smooth hard chest and most of all a cock that he arches up to feel with his own.

When Blaine sits back between Kurt’s legs, looking so beautifully naked and hard, he runs his hands along the insides of Kurt’s thighs, and all the blood in Kurt’s body  _pounds_  with wanting.  He can only push his thighs back into Blaine’s hands, but Blaine understands, because he knows this dance, they both know perfectly this way of doing it among many.  “You have everything?” he simply asks, and Kurt nods.  Blaine bends over him again to reach his bedside table, skin so close and tempting, and Kurt curls his fingers in the comforter to make himself wait while Blaine retrieves the condom and lube that they’ll need and drops them down to the bed.

He’s close, really - but he feels far away, then, just because they’re not touching - and Kurt makes a small sound, like a whimper, wordless and wounded.  He  _needs_ Blaine to be right here, with him, he can’t stand the illusion of distance another second when they’re here together again.  Blaine hears, and he knows - must know - what he means, and comes up the bed to kiss him again.  He lies right on top of Kurt, this time, right where he belongs, letting their gravity smash their bodies together, one hand tight on his shoulder and the other on his hip, holding him so entirely close and completely.  “I love you so much,” Kurt breathes, floating under every inch of his skin.

“I love you too,” Blaine says, and he’s so hot on top of him, his cock so tantalizingly hard.

“Blaine?”

“Mmmm?”  Blaine’s licking his neck which is -  _ah_  - always good, but it’s not exactly satisfying right now.  Kurt tilts his hips up against Blaine’s, and feels Blaine’s cock just brush the underside of his ass.

“Please,” he says.

Blaine sits up, again, and Kurt watches his eyes go wider, arches up for the benefit of their not quite physical touch, and watches Blaine stare.  Blaine rubs a lubed finger down against his hole, and  _yes_ , this is what he’s wanted, the pressure feels so good, and - he tries to press back, to open around it, but it’s still not going in.

He tries to relax, to let in even the tip.  He really does know how this goes, he swears, but it seems his body’s somehow forgotten, he can’t - Blaine touches him up and down, around and around, for minute after minute, and he  _can’t -_

Blaine shifts with intent, to suck his cock again, too, he can tell, and Kurt says, “no,” because that’s great but it’s not what he wants right now.  “Just keep going.  Please.”  So Blaine does, he surges up his body to kiss him again, and keeps on touching him there down below.  Kurt feels his frustration fight again the growing waves of pleasure, and when his body all-of-a-sudden yields, the first slip of Blaine’s finger inside him feels like such a profound relief, _that’s how it goes_.  He clenches around it, tries to ride it further in, as Blaine’s lips curl into a grin against his own, and oh-so-slowly he feels Blaine work in a second finger, and a third, relishing the stretch and even the burn for a minute before it fades.

Blaine sits back and slicks the condom onto himself; Kurt passes him a pillow from the head of the bed.  When he lifts up to let Blaine put it under his ass, he kicks both his feet joyously in the air,  _ready, ready_ , and Blaine lines up and presses forward and in.

Kurt feels the fullness of it, first, at first it always feels so deliciously big, though he knows that Blaine isn’t particularly, and the unyieldingness of the pressure, holding him so wide open.  Blaine’s breath, moist and heavy on his neck, his arms pressing, trembling, against Kurt’s sides, and his balls, obscene, on the swell of Kurt’s ass.  Blaine is in him, so deep, so completely, and the shape and weight of him make Kurt  _want_ , never mind that this is already so much.  Blaine should be moving, Kurt wants him to be, and they both know how this dance goes.  But he’s not moving.

“Hey,” Kurt says.  He tilts up his hips, and catches his breath at the drag of Blaine’s cock inside him that the change of angle causes.  It’s so good, sharp joy and -  _yes, like that_  - but it’s still not enough.  He squeezes his thighs up around Blaine’s sides where they’ve slid, a wordless entreaty,  _take a hint_.

“’m gonna come,” Blaine says, and pulls almost entirely out again, his face all scrunched up, which shouldn’t be sexy, but it is, everything is right now.

“I need you,” Kurt says, “I don’t  _care_ ,” and squeezes  _hard_  around the head of Blaine’s cock where he’s holding Kurt open, and Blaine lets out an explosive grunt, and fucks himself right in again, and oh,  _oh_.  Kurt’s needed him so much, he doesn’t even know how long, and he can feel Blaine’s need too, in the strain of his legs, the jerkiness of his thrusts.  Blaine pushes  _in in in_ , and Kurt stretches for him, pushes back onto the length and width of Blaine in him, around every wrinkle of his cock, and he feels Blaine throb in him like a heartbeat but so much wilder and even more intimate, and clenches around Baine’s cock as he comes.

He lies there, almost still, petting Blaine’s back for a bit, burning with the heat of his desire and loving it just the same, while Blaine’s belly hovers just out of reach of his unsatisfied cock.  After a few minutes Blaine finally unslumps himself from where he’s fallen on Kurt’s shoulder, and slithers down to take Kurt into his mouth again.  It feels like Venusian heat and suction and  _home_ , and he comes down Blaine’s throat and around Blaine’s fingers in half a minute flat.

~

They stay there, exhausted, for a little while, Kurt blissed out and boneless and Blaine lazing face-to-face with his softened dick, until Kurt curls his fingers in Blaine’s hair and pulls gently, in the universally recognized symbol for  _up, up_.  Blaine comes, and cuddles into Kurt’s side, and Kurt slides his arms and legs, limpet-like, around him, and there, that’s better.  That’s so good.

They trade wordless whispers and pecks of kisses for a while, and eventually Kurt says, “I had a plan for that, you know.”

Blaine laughs.  “What, for seducing me?  You’ll never need a plan for that.”

Kurt hums.  “Not exactly.”

Blaine lifts up on his arms to hover over him, and brushes their noses together.  “Then what?”

Kurt squirms.  “You know how I kind of want to get back together with you again?  But I’m not sure it’s a good idea?”

“I think it is,” Blaine says, quiet and sure, and Kurt doesn’t know what he wants anymore.  He wants to believe in something certain and true, but he doesn’t know if this can be that, even when he looks for a long second into Blaine’s eyes.

“Anyway,” Kurt says, and pushes at Blaine so that he rolls easily off, “I thought that maybe, if we had sex again, I’d be able to figure it out.  It’s silly, I know.”

“So have you?” Blaine asks, grinning.

“Unfortunately not,” Kurt says, and slips his hand down Blaine’s side to run his fingers, teasing, into the cut of muscle over Blaine’s hip.  “But I did learn one thing.”

“What’s that?” Blaine asks.

Kurt pounces, and kisses him, and says between kisses.  “That I am.  Never.  Gonna.  Give this.  Up.”

Blaine breaks away one last time to respond.  “Oh,  _good_.”

~

They have to get up to wash, eventually, but they end up sharing the tiny bathroom and the tinier shower.  Kurt doesn’t want to be away from Blaine, not even a little bit, not when they’re in the same city again, and Blaine sheepishly, tenderly, agrees.  It’s awkward, and leads to some bumps that might blossom into bruises, but it’s so worth it, they don’t even care.  They laugh and they kiss and eventually jerk each other off again before they finally emerge, clean, from the water starting to run cold.

Back in the bedroom is harder, actually, because neither of them wants to get dressed again.  Kurt wants to stay close, skin-to-skin with Blaine, for as long as he can, for, if he could, the whole rest of these few precious days.  But Rachel and Santana are coming back, and neither he nor Blaine can be naked in front of them.  So he compromises, pulling on shorts and a tank top that he usually reserves for workout use, and cuddles back into Blaine on his bed, entangling their bare arms and feet.

~

Santana stumbles back into the apartment at a quarter after midnight, tipsy and laughing and  _loud_.  She pulls Kurt’s curtain-door aside with a  _whoop_ , and Kurt stiffens in place where he’s resting, head and arms flung across Blaine’s chest.

“Hel _lo_ , baby gays!” she sings out, “and just how much sex did you have tonight?”

“Hello to you too, Santana,” Blaine says, politely, from above Kurt’s head.

“Blaine!”  Rachel slips past Santana, cheeks pink and eyes shining, and throws herself delightedly headfirst onto Kurt’s bed.  “It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long!”

“Since the wedding,” he says, sitting up, and Kurt allows himself to be upended, “but I barely got a chance to see anyone then!  Sorry about that,” he says, eyes sliding sideways, blushing, to Kurt.

“Apology accepted!” she declares.  “But now you  _have_  to go out with all of us for a proper night on the town in New York.  Since your first night here was ruined, of course.”

“I’d  _love_  to,” Blaine beams.

Kurt watches him, vibrating with excitement, and Santana’s soft smile leaning against the wall where she’s pretending no one can see, and Rachel’s delighted clapping hands, all there together in his room in New York, and he feels the shattered pieces of his heart knit ever closer together.  “Okay!” he says, thrumming with happiness and hope, and slips to his feet on the floor, bouncing on his cold bare toes.  “Now, where shall we go?”

~

They decide against Callbacks.  Kurt hasn’t been back there since the first time Blaine came to visit - he doesn’t think Rachel has either - and he sees no good reason to start again now.  There are more piano bars in the city, of course, but somehow instead they end up at a diner, with greasy burgers and breakfast round the clock and a karaoke machine in the corner.

They all pile into a booth together, and Kurt hooks his foot around Blaine’s bare ankle and tries to keep his smile that just won’t stop on the right side of demented while he listens to Santana telling Blaine about the places they should’ve gone instead.  Most of which are bars, apparently, and “why did we come  _here_ , Blaine’s barely more underage than the rest of us.”

“We’re exploring the culture of the city,” Rachel says, with a grand sweeping gesture that barely misses knocking over her drink.

“This isn’t culture, it’s a  _diner_ ,” Santana says.

Blaine ignores her, and leans forward towards Rachel, eyes shining.  “Speaking of culture, Kurt told me you that guys have already been to some Broadway shows?”

“Ohmygod,” says Rachel, breathless, and they’re off.  She has so much to say on this subject, and Kurt does too, and their months-old argument over the relative merits of Galinda’s and Elphaba’s performances in  _Wicked_  is so much more fun when Blaine’s there ask questions and interject, while Santana sips on her soda in the corner and somehow manages to loudly roll her eyes.  Eventually their orders come - grilled cheeses for Blaine and Rachel, a chicken sandwich for Santana, a hamburger for Kurt - and the interruption and pause while they start to eat seems to call for a change of subject.

“So, Blaine,” Rachel asks, putting her sandwich down, “you’re coming to NYADA with us next year?”

“I hope so,” Blaine says, with a little smile sideways at Kurt.  “But I actually have three auditions tomorrow.  The first one is at NYADA, and then NYU, and then I have one at Columbia in the afternoon.  So, even if I don’t get into NYADA, I’ll still have some options.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” says Kurt, “not putting all your eggs in one basket.  Maybe Rachel and I should’ve done that, too.”

“But it all worked out for the best,” Rachel adds, brightly.  “So is that everywhere you’ve applied, then?  Just schools in New York?”

Blaine looks uncomfortable.  “Can we talk about this later?”

Kurt can feel a headache coming on already, especially when Santana sits up and takes notice.  “Wait, are you thinking of going somewhere else?  Like - ” she looks back and forth between the two of them - “not here?  So you two wouldn’t be together anymore?”

“Shut  _up_ , Santana,” Kurt hisses, “we’re not together anyway, and this is none of your business.”  He carefully doesn’t look at Blaine.   _Can we talk about this later_ , he wonders, what is there left to say?  And isn’t it too late, anyway, haven’t whatever decisions Blaine’s talking about already been made?

He really had thought that Blaine would be  _here_ , soon.  That had been the plan, for both of them, for so long, and Blaine had still seemed to be on board with it when he’d visited on Christmas…  Still.  Whatever it is that’s happening, he can’t do anything about it in the diner here.

The atmosphere in their booth isn’t quite comfortable, after that, and they finish eating and ask for the check and leave as soon as they feasibly can.  Kurt and Blaine fall behind the girls on the walk home, not speaking, still side by side.

It’s two in the morning already when they get home.  Kurt can tell, this is going to be a long night.

~

Inside his room, Kurt changes, still quiet, not looking at Blaine but not trying to hide from his gaze, and in his sleep clothes gets into bed.  Blaine’s standing above him, at the foot of the bed, still in the clothes he was wearing when he arrived, and Kurt  _wants_  him, wants him close and  _his_ , whatever this is going to be.  He turns back the covers on the other side of the bed, curls up facing the space where Blaine should be lying, and says, so softly, “come here.”

Kurt watches, unashamed, as Blaine strips.  He gets the pajamas out of his bag, still naked, and Kurt loves the breadth of his shoulders, the cut of his hips, the round curve of his ass as he bends, even when they’re not doing anything - it’s the first time, actually, that he’s gotten to watch Blaine naked that isn’t after sex or before, and he feels strangely honored to see it.  In a minute Blaine’s put on his pajamas, the navy blue silk, again, and slides in next to him.

Kurt hugs him, first, and presses a kiss to his forehead.  Then he asks, calm and not too afraid, because he  _needs_  to ask, “where did you apply to college?”

Blaine fishes his hands out from under the covers, holds them in both of his, and brings them up between their chests, before he finally looks Kurt in the eye and answers.  “Three schools here in New York, one in San Francisco, and one in L.A.”

Kurt blows out a breath, thinking.  It could be worse, of course, and the odds for Blaine coming here like this are still pretty good.  But - “why?” he asks.  “Wasn’t New York the plan?”

Blaine shrugs.  “It was.  But I applied to colleges in the fall, you know.  When I started working on my applications in November, you weren’t even speaking to me, and I sent them in right around Christmas.  So… I wasn’t so sure what the plan was, then.”

“That makes sense,” Kurt has to admit, despite himself.  Even if the stitches he’s been mending his heart with these last few days and weeks and months feel like they’re tearing through again, even if he feels like he could never stop crying if Blaine moved all the way across the country, maybe for years, maybe forever.  He knows it’s not his choice, but still, “I don’t want you to go somewhere else,” he admits.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Blaine says, and squeezes his fingers comfortingly.

“How do you know that, though?  Even if you choose any of the New York schools over any of the others - which I can’t really expect you to - ”

“I’m going to, though.”

“What will you do if you don’t get into any of them?  I hope you will, and of course I know that you  _should_ , but what if you  _don’t?_ ”

“I’m still coming here,” Blaine says, with a smile and a shrug.

Kurt tries to sit up, to look at this head-on, but he can’t move his elbow to prop himself up while Blaine’s holding onto his hands.  “But you can’t know that,” he says, anyway.  “Blaine, if you only get into colleges in California, you’ll have to go there.”

“Kurt, listen.”  So he does, and he lies back on the pillow, the better to look at Blaine, this strange and beautiful boy, for as long as he has him.  “This is  _New York City_.  You moved here without a college acceptance too, remember?  If I don’t get into the schools I applied to, I’ll audition for parts, or I’ll look for gigs, or… I don’t know, maybe I’ll sing on the street for money.  Because there are really just two things that I want.  I want to perform, and I want to be with you, and I’m not going to give up on either one.”

“You can’t say that,” Kurt breathes.

“I can say whatever I want,” Blaine says, “it’s my life.”  He seems to glow with a sense of purpose, somehow, eager and contented and proud, and it makes Kurt want nothing more than to move across the last few inches left between them, to kiss him again.  So he does.  Blaine kisses him back, of course he does, and their tongues in each others’ mouths get distracting for a while.  Eventually they fall back apart.

“We’re not together, though,” Kurt says, heedless of the way his well-kissed lips would seem to say otherwise.  He knows that Blaine knows, anyway.

“Yet,” Blaine says, smiling impishly.  “I’ll get you sooner or later, Kurt Hummel, just you wait.”

He laughs, of course, but - “what if you don’t, though?” he says.  “Of course I want you to forget about San Francisco and L.A. and just come here, but I really can’t promise anything, Blaine.  I’m still trying to figure this out.”

“I’m not worried about any of it,” Blaine says, “and I want to be here when you do.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine’s visiting Kurt in New York; they have some conversations, some college visits, and some sex. aka, ‘college and bondage.’

Kurt wakes up to the gray light of dawn filtering through the curtains, and Blaine’s face on the pillow beside him.  His eyes are gritty, his muscles tense, and a quick twist to check the clock on his bedside table confirms that it’s not even been three hours since the two of them finally fell entangled to sleep.  But he feels almost too awake right now, the way he only ever does at odd hours of the night, as if he’s floating not quite present above the world.

Blaine is here, in his bed, in New York, beside him.  It feels like something out of a dream.  He hasn’t had enough chances, yet, to get used to sharing a bed with someone, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall back to sleep.  But right now that is so much more than okay.  They don’t have very many hours left until Blaine has to go back to Lima, and he’d rather spend all of them watching Blaine than any sleeping himself.

He’s so beautiful, lying there, and in the muted light his profile looks like it could be a painting, with chunks of hair breaking messily out of the gel.  Kurt props himself up on one elbow over him, careful to be quiet, and doesn’t reach out to touch.  He wants to, of course, but he doesn’t want to wake him - not ever so early in the morning, and especially not when he has auditions waiting later in the day.  Instead he stares, so thoroughly, and marvels.  This is what he used to dream of.  The two of them here, together, like this, quiet mornings between one day and the next.  He feels a precarious happiness in this moment, growing big and ready to burst like a balloon, and he’s so glad, so grateful, to have it after all.

He watches Blaine’s head with such fondness, and wonders at what’s inside.  Of course there’s a boy he knows in there, who sings to everyone and plays most especially with him, who loves so wildly and dances at the slightest provocation and talks about fashion he knows and movies he doesn’t.  But there are other things, too, he knows now, things he doesn’t understand.  He remembers Blaine saying, in a broken voice over the phone,  _I felt like nothing I did mattered_ , and still can’t imagine how that fits in.

And he feels terrified.  Late last night - but he knows it wasn’t a dream - Blaine had said that he’d come to New York no matter what, that he’d come  _to be with Kurt_ , even when Kurt hasn’t said yet that he’ll take him back, waiting patiently for a promise that he might not be able to give.  It only sounds too crazy to be true.

He’s terrified, too, of what might happen if he does say yes.  If they move in together, what then?  It’s what he’s wanted - what both of them have always wanted.  But it’s hard, too, the logistics and closeness every hour that wear you - he’s learned that already with Rachel, and they’ve come out the stronger for it, but he’s not sure if he’s willing to risk the connection that he and Blaine have with so much effort rebuilt.

~

Blaine’s alarm goes off at nine thirty.  It would leave time enough, they’d decided last night, for him to shower and dress and have a not too leisurely brunch before he faces the NYADA auditioners at noon.

He stretches, groaning, at the sound, and Kurt takes the opportunity, delighted, to pounce and kiss him awake.

~

“Just wait and see, you’ll love it,” Kurt says with a coy little smile, and Blaine says, “I’m sure I will,” and they go off to have breakfast at Kurt’s favorite cafe.  It’s just a few blocks away from the apartment, near the subway, with tiny French pastries and Ethiopian coffee, and he’s been wanting to share it for a while.

They order a whole plate of mini pastries, with fruit tarts and pain au chocolat, and two medium drip coffees, and follow the stream of sunlight on the floor to a wooden table for two, smooth surface shining gold, and settle themselves and their food.  Blaine’s quiet, like he sometimes is before coffee, and Kurt’s turning over the thoughts from this morning in his head.  He doesn’t want to distract Blaine from his auditions, they’re so incredibly important, he knows - but still, they’re here together now, and they can talk for once in person.  If only he knew what to say.

Blaine swallows a bite of his croissant, washes it down with coffee, and says, “so.  What are you thinking about so intently?”

Kurt grins at being caught out.  “You.”  But then the grin fades.  “I’ve been thinking about the things you told me,” he starts, and then bites on the tip of his tongue, considering.

“Hmm?”

“And I feel like I don’t understand you, after all.”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks.

“Like… when you finally explained to me why you cheated on me.  I’ve been trying and trying to understand it, and it still doesn’t make any  _sense_.  Or - even last night!  How could you move to New York to be with me when we’re not even together?  It sounds  _insane_  - ”

Blaine’s forehead wrinkles.  “Do you want me to try to explain?”

“Not really,” Kurt says, “because every time I ask, you do that, you keep explaining, and all it makes me realize is that…” he shrugs, helplessly.  “I don’t even understand your explanations.  I know I should be able to, but I  _can’t_ , and I just - I don’t know what to do.”

“Why should you?” Blaine asks, and Kurt just blinks at him, confused.

“Because I love you?  Because you’re important to me?  And because - I  _want_  to be with you again, okay?  I do.  But if I can’t understand you after all, then how can I ever do that?”

Blaine laughs.  “I’ve never felt like I understood you.”

Kurt blinks again, twice - three times.  That is possibly the most bizarre thing he’s ever  _heard_.  “What?  But you  _do!_ ”

“Not really, no,” Blaine says, and he smiles reassuringly, and takes Kurt’s hand, where he hadn’t noticed it lying loose on the table, “Kurt, listen.  You surprise me every day.  Like - right now!  I have no idea where this is even coming from.  But I _love_  the way I never know what you’re going to do, because it’s almost always wonderful, and it’s always something I never expected.  It’s one of the best things in my life.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, breathless, mind spinning and reeling.  “Wow.  But you’re so….” He shrugs, helplessly.  “You make me  _feel_  understood.”  He looks up from staring at Blaine’s coffee cup.  “Really?”

"Of course.”

Blaine’s smile is the same as it’s ever been, the brush of his fingers is the same when he lets go of Kurt’s hand to eat, the slight knocking of their feet underneath the table is the same whenever they shift in the opposite directions, and eventually it’s time to leave.  Can’t keep the examiners waiting.

~

They take the subway to NYADA, transferring once, and Kurt doesn’t want to distract Blaine from this, ever, wants to give him only the best of help and good luck.  But he can’t stop smiling too widely, he can feel the strain of it in his cheeks, can’t stop bouncing on the balls of his feet.  Blaine asks him, “why do you think we need to understand each other, anyway?” and he looks at Blaine, standing there, where they both belong, and for a moment he doesn’t know.

Then he thinks about it, and remembers.  “So you won’t take me completely by surprise and break my heart again?”

Blaine looks at him - so seriously, now - and takes his right hand from the metal pole, holds it in both of his, and brings them to his chest.  “I won’t.  I promise.  I’m going to take care of you, and of us.”

Kurt bites his lip, and sways closer, closer.  This boy, still and always, all he’s ever wanted -

The train dings, and Blaine looks behind them at the station map, and they hurry to get off before the doors close again.

~

He doesn’t know where the audition room is at NYADA, he should’ve looked it up earlier, but anyway, they find it in plenty of time.  He says, “go get ‘em,” one last time before Blaine goes in, and squeezes his hands for luck, and Blaine grins back.  He looks more excited than nervous right now, which is probably a good thing.

“I will.”

Kurt paces up and down the hallway outside after Blaine goes in.  There’s not enough time to do anything else, and he wants to be sure that he’s here when Blaine’s done.  It hasn’t been long - maybe fifteen minutes - when Blaine comes out again, and they head off to NYU.

“How’d it go?” he asks on the way.

Blaine shrugs, face not tense but not really readable.  “I’m not done yet.”

Whatever that means.  Okay.

They take the subway in silence this time, and find the building they need, and Kurt sits outside in warm spring air and looks at the trees in various stages of bloom, while he waits for his - friend? boyfriend?  _Blaine -_  to impress the auditioners.  Which he always does, of course, so Kurt shouldn’t worry, but today it’s all so much more important than it’s ever been before.  It’s New York, it’s his future…

It’s  _their_  future, maybe, just waiting, for him to pick and take it.  He’d clung to imagining it, forever, in Lima for more than a year before he left, and so lonely in New York for the first few weeks, too - and then he’d thought that the promise of it was broken, and tried to forget it for the present instead.  But today is everything he’d ever hoped for, in a way.  Not quite the same, but close enough to fit the pattern.

“Hey there, stranger,” a warm voice says, and when he looks up he sees Blaine standing in front of him again.

“Hey,” he says, the response automatic, one word and a smile and a little upspring of joy.

Another train ride, and a walk under the bright blue sky, wide open even between the tall buildings when they look up and up and up, and they’re at Columbia.  Blaine goes to interview, and Kurt waits.  Because, apparently, ‘just friends’ or not, Blaine is a part of his  _life_.  He’s in his head, in his hopes, in his heart that won’t stop beating faster just for him, and he wants to be a part of Blaine’s too, whenever he can.  He’s glad to, like this, more than glad to play subway tag around the city with him even though he’s unusually quiet today, because just being close to him is so much better than being farther away.

Blaine comes out of this room smiling, brighter than the summer sun, and says, “I think that went well.”

“Just Columbia?” Kurt asks, worried.  It’s a good school, of course, technically the best.  But Blaine had wanted performing, and he’s always been the best at it, and couldn’t NYADA or NYU even see that?  It’s true that NYADA had rejected both Rachel and himself, but  _still_  -

“All of them, I think,” Blaine says, falling into step beside him.  “I just didn’t want to jinx it while I was still in the middle of auditions.  I guess that was probably weird.”

“Whatever works for you,” Kurt says, and just keeps looking at him, sideways and smiling.  He’s  _here_.  They walk out of the performing arts school’s building and into the sunshine again, the day so bright it shocks their eyeballs.  “So,” he says, teasing, “you haven’t been ready to share your audition song all weekend… ”

Blaine laughs.  “Yes, you can hear it now.”  He runs a few steps in front of Kurt, and turns, and spreads his arms; ever a showman, even on the New York City streets, and starts.   _Everything has its season, everything has its time, show me a reason and I’ll soon show you a rhyme._

Kurt listens delightedly the first time through, and joins in on the repeat.

~

There’s not much time left for the flea market, it turns out.  “I know I promised I’d take you,” Kurt says.

“It’s fine if I don’t get to see it,” Blaine says.  “I was going to visit anyway, you know.”

“But you deserve some sort of reward.”

“For what?  For the auditions?”

“Sure,” Kurt says, and grabs his hand giddily, and drags him back onto the subway.  He doesn’t usually go on it this much, doesn’t usually go to this many places, but it’s a subway type of day.

~

Twenty-five minutes, apparently, is plenty of time for Blaine to get into conversations with not just one but four different people selling clothes and antiques.  Blaine gets him a brooch, even though he hadn’t been expecting anything, while his back is turned, a little felted white heart with red veins stitched on it, and a golden arrow piercing it through.  He asks Blaine to pin it to his vest, right over where his real heart beats, and feels every pulse so loud and strong as Blaine’s fingers move carefully over it.   _Thump, thump, thump_.

There’s not any time left, after all that, to find a good enough present for  _Blaine_.

They head for home, reluctantly, when the people who run the stalls and tables start putting things away.  They don’t actually stop anywhere else, but Blaine looks at everything they pass, shops and restaurants and clubs and landmarks and all sorts of  _places_ , eyes moving constantly from one side of the street to the other and back again, and Kurt remember his first days in the city when he couldn’t stop looking at everything too.  “I really do want to live here,” Blaine says.

“Have you even seen the other cities?”

“I’ve been to L.A. when I visited Cooper,” Blaine says, and stops for a moment, looking away from all the storefronts and right to him.  “But this is what I want.”

Kurt looks down at their hands, almost touching, and bumps his fingers off the back of Blaine’s.  “Greatest city in the world.”

Less than half a mile away from the apartment there’s an old woman selling amigurumi on the street.  Kurt means to just coo over them for a second, but Blaine’s entranced, and while he’s playing with the frogs and foxes and bears Kurt’s attention is caught by a little phoenix sitting in the back.  It has a nest of knitted flames, and peacock colors on its wings, and something in the brightness and fire and promise of flight reminds him so much of Blaine.  He buys it, and gives it to him with a smile both proud and shy, and watches him blush.

“It’s beautiful,” Blaine says.  He makes its little wings flap with his fingers, and swoops it around to perch on Kurt’s shoulder while he pretends to bat it away.

~

In the apartment, Kurt heats up the dinner that they didn’t end up eating last night, and they sit at the table together, just talking about the day.  Santana goes out for her weekend shift at the bar, and while they’re cleaning up Rachel comes in with sacks of groceries, and Kurt helps her put them away while Blaine continues with the dishes and…

It’s ridiculous, it really is.  It’s not as if they haven’t done chores together before at both of their parents’ houses, it’s not as if putting things away in the kitchen is romantic at all.  But the moment - just turning from putting the sugar into the jar to see Blaine at  _his_  sink, here - catches his breath anyway.

He wants this every day.  It doesn’t matter what else they are, or aren’t, if he can just keep these little moments, in the middle of the rest of his life.

He’s struck still for a moment, and Blaine turns more fully, and Kurt doesn’t know what he must see on his face.  “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“You,” he says, breathlessly, heart over-full.  It’s been such a good weird long day.

~

They go to bed early.  Well - ‘to bed.’

When Kurt finally moves in to kiss Blaine properly, after the whole day outside of _not_ , Blaine says, “just a second, I wanted to ask you something,” and Kurt waits again while he digs in his bag.  He emerges, triumphant, with a scarf that used to be Kurt’s, with a chain printed on it, and -  _oh_.  That, he remembers.  Blaine naked and tied and desperately wanting and listening and his, and then lying there so very satisfied, last spring.  His dick twitches instantly.  “I know we’re not together right now, but - I’d still like to be yours again, tonight.  If you’d like that,” Blaine says.

Kurt looks down sheepishly at his growing erection, and Blaine follows his gaze.  “Uh,” he says, eloquently.

“I take it that’s a yes,” Blaine says, smirking, and reaches out to touch it.

“Wait,” Kurt says.  He’s breathless already, and Blaine’s hand moves back, and oh yes.  It’s such a heady feeling, to see him move like that, at his command.  He breathes for a second; he needs to think what to say.  “Take off your clothes, first.  Then get on the bed.”

And Blaine does.  Not teasing, not making a show of it, because Kurt hadn’t asked him to do that, just matter-of-factly and quick as he can, and he sits, smiling and bouncing and naked, on the end of the bed.  “Like this?” he asks, pretending that he’s oh so innocent and helpful, mouth quirked and eyebrows raised, and it should be incongruous with sex, but it’s really not.

Kurt narrows his eyes, somewhere between playful and play- _acting_  at  _do not even start with me_ , and says again, “get on the bed.”  He hears Blaine gasp, watches his jaw go slack a little, before he hitches himself up on both arms and lies back on the comforter.  Which is - a nice view, certainly, Blaine’s abs and his chest and his thighs and his cock sticking straight up in the middle, but it won’t work for the scarf part of this equation at all.  So he laughs a little, because Blaine had  _asked_ for the scarf, and they both know geometry, while Blaine lies there watching him.

“Turn over - not like that,” he says, “kneel.  Facing the head of the bed - ” and Blaine moves, to the tune of his words, and he breathes out, “yes, that’s so good.  Now - sit back on your feet, and lie down like that, put your chest down on the bed, hands out over your head…” and he as says all these things, Blaine follows them, and it’s - amazing, to see, to feel between them.  “You’re amazing,” he says, which he’s always known, his lover’s breathtaking in so many ways, the way he moves and the architecture of his body, golden skin begging to be touched all over and the curves of his ass and back on such display.  Kurt walks around the bed, to lift Blaine’s head, and see his face again.  “You’re so - ” he says, as he climbs onto the bed too, facing Blaine, on his knees in front of him, “just so - ”

He pulls him back up, fingers under his chin, so they’re kneeling in front of each other.  He can’t put it into words, anyway.  The gift of this moment and everything in it, so he just kisses Blaine, instead, trying as hard as he can to give it all back.  Blaine’s mouth opens eagerly under his lips, wide and so very hot, and when he slides his tongue in Blaine sucks on it, continuously, pressing and licking all around, and he feels like he could lose himself in him, just like this.  He runs his hands up and down Blaine’s arms hungrily, to feel the muscles flexing there, and holds them back and away from his body, then moves to the sides of his chest and belly and finally down to tease around his cock.  Blaine moans, deep in his chest, and sucks even harder, and Kurt pulls himself by force of effort back.  The scarf is interwoven, and pulled tight now, making him remember it, between the fingers of his left hand.

He holds it up, brushing the smooth silk over the hint of stubble on Blaine’s jaw, and sees him remember too.  “Should I…” he begins, sitting back to look at Blaine a little better, and consider, imagine all the possibilities… “tie this around your cock?”  He brings it down to whisper over Blaine’s shaft, and watches his eyes widen just a bit more, his thighs tremble and not move.  “I could wrap it all around, and jerk you off with it, would you like that?”  Blaine nods, and makes these gorgeous broken sounds, and that is a wonderful visual - but it’s not what he wants, not involved enough for him, right now.  “Or I could just tie it around your neck,” he says, tracing Blaine’s collarbone, seeing his chin lift and enjoying the extra space it makes for his fingers, “and pull on it while I fuck you…”

“Yes, please,” Blaine gasps, and.  Maybe another time, that does sound good.  But it’s dangerous - Blaine’s said, vaguely - and they’re not prepared for it today.

But still, the fucking part  _does_  sound good.  So he stands up off the bed again - “another time,” he says, about the neck thing - and walks around it to stand behind Blaine again, and presses gently on his back.  “Get back down.”  And Blaine _flumps_  just as if he’d been waiting for the command, head laid sideways on the bed so he’s looking sweetly in Kurt’s direction, and Kurt looks at him, curled up and laid out like that, deciding where to tie the scarf.  He knows a simple answer, of course - they’ve done it like this before, and both loved it - but he likes to play, and think about things, and, who knows, maybe next time he’ll actually have something new.  “Are you ready?” he asks.

“Um, yeah,” and Blaine’s tone manages to convey both submission and  _of course I am, silly_  in just a few words, and Kurt does love him.

Kurt sheds his own clothes, now, quickly and without fuss, and climbs back on the bed behind him, and holds him, and kisses his back, and touches him anywhere, everywhere, because how could he not?  Blaine lets him, staying almost still and making pleased and wanting sounds - Blaine wants him to, and he’s so very glad - so he rubs his palms up past the knobs at the base of Blaine’s spine, and fans his fingers out on the way back down.  Then he takes Blaine’s wrists - one of Blaine’s hands in each of his - and brings them together behind his back, careful not to pull too hard.  He holds Blaine’s hands tenderly together with his, tangling all their fingers between them for a moment, and then lets go so he can tie the scarf carefully around one wrist, and then the other, and then both of them together again.  He rubs his thumb over the knots, feeling the odd space between the almost too smooth silk and the faint sticking of the sweat on Blaine’s skin.  “This okay?” he asks.

“Please,” Blaine breathes, and the weight of his desire pulls at Kurt, and makes his own flare brighter too.

“I will, baby,” he says, “be patient,” as he goes to get the lube and the condom and then comes quickly back, and starts to opens Blaine up with his fingers.  Blaine is writhing on them, it’s - blindingly hot, seeing it, his ass rocking onto Kurt’s hand, and just inches above it, his fingers clenching on nothing, his wrists pulling to get apart.  Blaine’s hole is ready for him, just loose enough, so quickly, and Blaine’s been ready, whispering filthy,  _c’mon, need you baby, need your cock_ , this whole time, so Kurt puts the condom on - his own hands shocking, the first touch he’s felt tonight - and knees himself forward between Blaine’s legs, and fucks right into him, perfect and hot.

Blaine jolts back onto him with a startlingly deep grunt, and - there’s no stopping, no thinking, when his cock is in Blaine’s ass like this.  Blaine’s bearing back on it, squeezing around him, death-grip tight, and he’s moving, over and over, he’s fucking into Blaine, his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, and he sees Blaine’s hands - they’re thrashing, scrabbling, with no purchase behind his back, and Blaine’s just - moving on him, and he’s moving in Blaine, and there’s no point, or counterpoint, no convergence to rhythm, but heat and pressure everywhere, all over his cock, buried all the way to the skin of his balls in Blaine’s ass, and coming out for a second just to thrust back in again.  This is so good, he’s so glad, he says  _yes, yes, thank you_ , murmured between thrusts, into the space between Blaine’s shoulders.

Blaine pauses for a second - and the sudden stilling around his cock, the way his flesh holds and  _clings_ , feels strange and good - and says, “of course, this is easy.”

And Kurt - oh.  He has to think at that, through the fog of his brain.  Something harder, then?  He sits back on his heels - carefully, not to fall out of Blaine’s body - and looks, sees the possibility, and gets his hands around Blaine’s sides.  “Here, sit up,” he says.

“Mmmmm?”

“Sit up and fuck yourself on me.”

It’s hard for Blaine to balance, with no hands to use, and he falls forward onto the bed a couple times, but eventually they get it.  Kurt’s kneeling on the bed, leaning back, and Blaine’s kneeling higher, in front of him, legs outside of his and back arched, hands tied together behind his back.  He pushes back onto Kurt’s cock again, taking it back to the root until his ass is spread against the bone and muscle of Kurt’s hips, and Kurt rocks forward into Blaine, and Blaine does, too, and then they’re moving together again, and it’s so hot Kurt can’t process at all.

Blaine’s thighs are strong against the front of his, flexing, his hands move restlessly between Blaine’s hips and abdomen to feel them both, and he can feel Blaine working, so  _hard_ , to fuck himself on him.  It’s  _so hot_.  Blaine’s so hot, and the way he’s wriggling on Kurt’s cock is so  _very very very_  hot - and he loves Blaine.  So he needs to make him come, first, before he  _explodes_ , yeah, alright.

“You’re so good at this,” he whispers, loudly, into - it’s as close to Blaine’s ear as he can get from this position anyway, and finally moves one hand forward far enough to touch Blaine’s cock.  It’s so hard, it burns his skin and makes him hotter, like a brand, and he braces his knees and tilts his body forward and feels Blaine open, again and again, around him.  He gets his hand better positioned around Blaine’s cock and starts pulling on it, “you’re so hot,” he says, “so hot for me, all mine, and you’re gonna be even hotter when you come.”

And Blaine says “nngh nngh  _ngh_ ,” which is a noise of desperation he knows, so he pulls harder, puts the other hand down on the bed to try to balance them and thrusts forward again and hopes they don’t both fall over or even worse  _sideways_ , and Blaine says, “ _now now now now_ ,” thrashing backward and forward with the smallest, craziest making movements on his cock, and he pushes and pulls and _makes_  Blaine come, all over his hand, warm and pulsing.

And he can’t.  Wait any longer to come himself.  He moves his hands and pushes Blaine down again - he goes so easily, not even needing to be told now - and fucks hard and ceaselessly into him, over and over, as fast as he can, for a minute or so maybe while Blaine grunts warmly beneath him, and then he’s coming too.  In Blaine’s ass, and all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes.

He lies there a few more minutes, collecting his breath and the remnants of his brain, and then pulls out, flops over, and carefully unties Blaine’s wrists.

When they’re cuddling to sleep he says, wrung out and amazed, “you’re so good at that, you know.  I could never do it.”

“I love it,” Blaine says, with a smile.

~

That was Saturday night.  On Sunday morning, Blaine has a plane to catch.

This time they both wake up with the alarm; one day, Kurt dreams of sleeping in with him, but there’s clearly not time for that yet.  They shower separately, and eat breakfast together, and it’s almost time already, as they watch the creeping minutes, for Blaine to have to go.  Kurt could go with him as far as the airport, and so of course he offers, but Blaine declines.

“Why not?” he asks.

Blaine just looks at him, eyes dark and unreadable.  “Do you want to be my boyfriend now?”

“No,” Kurt says, but he’s smiling, unstoppably, and ducks his head shyly away.  “But you can keep asking me, if you want.”  He giggles; Blaine doesn’t.

“Okay.”

“What makes you think I will be, anyway?”

“You know the answer to that,” Blaine says.  Kurt was teasing, earlier, or trying to, but he still sounds so serious.  “And I’d like to hear your answer, now, too, if that’s something you can give.  Just so I could have a moment here with you before I go back to Lima.”

“Oh,” Kurt says.  He can see it so clearly now, what Blaine wants, but - “I’m still not ready.”

Blaine nods, accepting.  “Why not, though?  Don’t you know what’s going to happen?”

“Maybe.  Probably,” Kurt says, “but not… entirely.  I just want to be sure about this, about us, before I make any decisions.  Because I know that it’s important to you, and it’s important to me too.”

“I can understand that,” Blaine says.  He looks down, restlessly, at his watch, and Kurt looks at it too.  There’s a few more minutes left, even with the safety margins they’d decided on earlier, but not enough for much.

“Goodbye, for now, then,” Blaine says, and holds his arms out for a hug.  And Kurt holds him, and clings to him, for minute after minute, of the awkwardness and warmth and familiar smell of Blaine’s arms wrapped around him, until the alarm on Blaine’s phone goes off.

“Au revoir,” Kurt says, choked up and he doesn’t even know  _why_ , as he opens the door to let Blaine pick up his stuff and leave.

“I’ll call you when I get back,” Blaine says, “okay?”


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt wakes up on Monday morning, again, and Blaine’s not there.  Of course, he remembers, he never has been, not until the last two days - but it feels different now, anyway, like an absence and not just a lack of presence.  Kurt feels like he _should_  be here with him, always, and maybe should’ve been all along.  His pillow is empty when he gets up; there’s nothing there to look at, though he pauses for a moment, foolishly.  He showers alone, like he always does, and he eats breakfast by himself.  He’s a little glad Santana isn’t awake yet, and that Rachel’s already gone, so the way he feels can really be true.

He plays with his phone, on the table, in front of him.  He could call Blaine.  He knows he’ll be awake already, and McKinley’s day hasn’t started quite yet - but he doesn’t want to disrupt his morning routine, he knows how tightly scheduled it is, and he doesn’t, really, have anything to say.  Just that he wishes he was  _here_.

He goes off to NYADA, thinking, round and about on the train,  _I shouldn’t miss him so much, should I?  It seems kind of crazy.  I mean, I just saw him yesterday._   And -  _it doesn’t even make any sense, I never felt like this before._ It would be better, he thinks, if Blaine was coming back tomorrow, or next week, or even sometime in the next month, but in fact he has no idea when he’ll see him again.  NYADA’s semester ends - he checked this morning - the week before McKinley’s graduation this year, so he could fly back out to Lima for that.  If he wants to, and maybe he shouldn’t, but oh he does.  And he doesn’t even know why he feels this way now, and is it just him after all?

He pulls his phone out of his bag, with some difficulty, in the standing-room-only crowd of the train car, and types one-handed,  _Do you miss me?_

 _Yes,_  Blaine replies instantly.  Then,  _Of course I do!_   Then,  _Why, don’t you miss me?_

 _You know I do_ , Kurt types.  It’s still class time at McKinley; he couldn’t call Blaine to talk instead of text, even if the train around him was quiet enough.   _What do you mean though?  When you say you miss me._

_Just that I wish you were here.  Or that I was in New York again.  I just want to see you, mostly._

Which is nice, certainly.  He feels a little warmer, a little happier, just at hearing it.  But it doesn’t seem to capture the way he feels.   _Oh_ , he types.

_Oh what?_

And - this is the problem with conversations.  He’d started, not thinking of what could happen - thinking that Blaine could tell him things, maybe.  And now he has to try to describe how he feels.  He bites his lip, and types slowly.   _I know you were just here and you had to leave_.  Because that’s why this feels so crazy, of course.   _But I just keep wanting to reach out and see you and hear you and touch you.  And you’re not here_.  He pauses again, reading over what he’s sent, because that’s - a lot to say, he guesses, but it’s true.  And even then it’s not quite clear enough.   _But I feel like you should be._    _Like you’re… missing, or something.  I don’t know.  It’s crazy_.  And that’s a lot of feelings, a lot of messages and conversation, isn’t it, for your best friend with a complex history between you on a Monday morning.  Blaine hasn’t responded to any of them, and he can’t help but wonder why.   _You don’t feel like that?_

 _Not right now_ , Blaine says.

_Explain._

And the words appear, on his screen, like magic.   _I did, back in the fall, when you were so busy with vogue and everything._   His stomach jumps up into his throat, and gets ready to fall.  This again, really?  He’d thought that Blaine was okay, that he’d heard enough….   _I felt almost exactly like that actually.  Like I just needed you, so badly, all the time_.  At least it’s nothing  _new…._   _Because even when I got to see and hear you over the phone, it didn’t feel like you were really there_.  And it twists in his gut, again, this hurt that Blaine carries, even when it’s in the past.  It’s such a strong strange echo of his own.  It can’t be erased, he knows, neither of them can, nor written over… but maybe it can be written past.  He thinks that his mostly is, now, and Blaine’s seems to be too.  He looks back at the screen and sees one more message, and it’s not hurt or unhappy at all.  Okay, then.   _But Kurt… I’m here for you now._

 _I know_ , he types back, content and faintly glowing.   _I’m glad.  I’m here for you too._

The train stops, and it’s at his station, time to hurry and not be late to class.  Anyway, he’s not sure what else he has to say.  But he keeps thinking about it - not so painfully, this time, not so desperately, because Blaine really has seemed fine, despite the memories he’s shared.  But he’s wondering, mostly, for himself, what do his feelings  _mean?_   And if Blaine doesn’t share them exactly, is that really a problem?  He’s not sure it has to be.

He gets his phone back out at lunch - it’s lunch for him, not for Blaine, of course, but he can text under the desk in class.  They both used to do that all the time in McKinley, and they almost never got caught.   _Why don’t you feel like that anymore?_  he asks, and breaks crumbs off the crust of his sandwich for the sparrows while he waits for Blaine to respond.

It only takes a minute.   _I’m not sure.  I think it’s because I know that you love me now.  And I know that you’ll be there for me if I reach out, even though you’re really far away._ And Kurt’s heart just  _melts_.  This is even better than their awkward attempts at sexting.   _It almost feels like you’re with me all the time.  Like you’re here in my heart <3._  And,  _I hope that’s not too cheesy_.  Kurt laughs.

 _No, it’s actually really sweet._   And, thinking, slowly and furiously, he texts….  _I used to feel just like that.  In the fall_.  Then he breathes, for a few seconds, and thinks, not sure if he should say this part outside of his head.  But he trusts Blaine now, he does, to share his words and his thoughts and not try to make them mean too much.   _I want to feel like that again._

He doesn’t know much about all of this, still.  Isn’t sure what could give him that feeling again, or if it would be worth the tradeoffs.  Because when he used to have that feeling, that almost physical sense of connection and love, it wasn’t just about their future, it was also Blaine, far away, but waiting for him.  And he knows he has that now.

And the future isn’t just forever.  It’s tomorrow, next week, next month, next year.  He wants Blaine in all of them, so much - he can’t imagine not having him, some way, and really, honestly, as close as he can get.  And Blaine is coming here, next year, he’s promised.

What he would do next year if he wasn’t really doesn’t bear thinking about.  He’s sure he’d get through it somehow, of course, just like he got through this winter.  But the truth, the truth that makes him so lucky, is that Blaine’s disregarding the complications in his way and the uncertainty and coming to him, anyway.  And he _wants_  to go to Blaine, too.

He takes a deep breath, one more time, and puts himself in freefall.

_What are you going to do next fall?_

_I told you, I’m coming to New York <3!_

_And where are you going to live in New York? ;)_

_With you and Rachel and Santana, if you want me to?  If you don’t, I guess I’ll have to find another place._

_I always want you here_ , Kurt says, and it’s nothing more than the truth, but he’s grinning so wide that he feels his teeth cut into his lips.  And he just can’t stop.  He wants Blaine here, he wants Blaine now, he wants Blaine close and with him and in New York and in his bed and next week and next year and  _always_.  Is it really that simple?

It can’t be, can it?  Because that’s been true all the time, underneath and despite all of the pain and the frustration and the uncertainty.  That has  _always_  been true.  And so he’s thinking and thinking and thinking, as hard as he possibly can.  There’s no sign, there’s no possible way to be certain.  Any way he decides, any time he does it, it has to be a decision he makes.  And he could be wrong.  He’d never thought that was possible, before, not with love, and certainly not with _Blaine_.  Blaine was perfect; and even when he wasn’t, which was a lesson Kurt learned before they got together the first time, Blaine was still perfect for  _him_.

Until he cheated on him, and the dream that Kurt had been living in shattered, and the connection between them broke.  It made everything awful, horrible, unthinkable, he’d thought; there was nothing true left between them, after that, if there ever had been at all.  Only, the time and months proved afterwards, Blaine’s friendship was still true.  Even his love has been, in so many ways, so sure and so much this long winter.  And this is still something Kurt can’t understand: Blaine loves him, and Blaine cheated on him, and how does the contradiction between these facts not make one of them cancel the other one out.  But he’s glad, he guesses, that it doesn’t.  Because this way, after and despite everything, the truth is that he still has Blaine.

And he still loves him.  Was that ever really a question? he thinks, ruefully.   But yes, it was.  He had his doubts, and now he’s making his decision.  It’s important, he thinks, to acknowledge that.  That he’s coming to this again, not from inertia or sentiment, but knowing what he now knows.

His lunch period is over - it has been for a while, actually, he’s late to class - and he hasn’t even eaten most of his sandwich.  He shoves it back in his bag to finish eating during the next break, and he texts Blaine one more time.   _Do you have time to skype tonight?  Say maybe 8:30?_

He checks his phone after dance class, tired, and not even hungry enough to eat after all - it’s weird, how exercising can make you less hungry instead of more - and sees a message from Blaine that he’s missed.   _For you, always <3._

~

He’s so happy, everywhere he goes, for the whole the rest of the day.  Not even his acting teacher’s comments, or the delay on the train back home, or the discovery that Santana’s eaten the last of his favorite cookies, can make a dent.  And that’s how he knows - that’s the closest he can get to being  _sure_  - that his decision is right.

He still feels the flutters of nervousness in his stomach, but when he listens closer he knows what they are.   _What if I fuck up_.  He’s not nervous of Blaine at all, or of starting this up again - and maybe he should be, but he just isn’t.

He does feel nervous, though, he just can’t stop, though he knows it’s ridiculous.  He knows that Blaine wants him back, for gods’ sake, he asked him just yesterday!  But he’s still bouncing restlessly around the apartment - why are there _hours_  left, anyway, maybe he should call right now - but he’s waiting till he’s done with everything else today for a  _reason._   He’s so jittery over dinner, and Rachel and Santana ask and tease, but he won’t tell them why, and laughs at their guesses, because he’s going to tell Blaine first.

He dresses carefully for the Skype date.  Of course he looks fine.  He was out all day in this outfit, there’s nothing wrong with it.  But this conversation is  _important_.  So he changes, and he sits, twirling his pencil, in front of the computer, as he waits for the numbers to change on the clock.

Blaine calls him promptly at 8:30, and he almost tips his laptop over as he hurries to accept the call.

“Hey,” Blaine says, and Kurt just looks at his face.  It looks  _amazing_ , he can’t stop staring, he’s so happy to see him again.  “… Kurt?  Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

 _It’s time_ , he tells himself, and sits up straight.  Hands folded over each other in his lap, where Blaine can’t see them, but oh well.  He can’t take Blaine’s hand over Skype, he can’t do everything, but he can do what he can do.  “Yes, there was, actually,” he says.  “Blaine.  Warbler.  Anderson.  Will you be my boyfriend again?”

“Ohmygod,” says Blaine, “ohmygod, really, yes, Kurt?  You know I do, yes, what made you…” and he trails off, looking a bit embarrassed but so incredibly happy, and Kurt’s even happier than before, if possible, to see him - and to  _make_  him that happy, too.  He feels just like he could burst.  “Yes,” Blaine says again.  “I will, I do,  _Kurt_.”

“And I don’t just mean any sort of boyfriends, you know,” Kurt says, because he  _knows_  Blaine knows, they’ve been over and over this, but he wants to say it all anyway, and now he  _can,_ again.  “I want to do everything with you.  We’ll go through college - or not college - together, we’ll live and work here in New York together, and when we’re ready to retire we’ll live in a lighthouse with an artists’ colony.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Blaine says, grinning so fiercely, Kurt thinks that maybe he can’t contain it either.  “Yes, we will.” 

“And if you decide you don’t want the lighthouse after all, I’ll still want you.  And if it turns out that the sea wrecks havoc on my complexion then we’ll move, and we’ll just have to start our artists’ colony somewhere else.”

“Yeah, okay,” Blaine says, laughing.  “I don’t believe you, though, you know.  If the sea is bad for your complexion you’ll just devote the rest of your life to finding products that work well with it, and even making them if you need to.”

“I love you,” says Kurt, just because he does.  So much.  It’s impossible not to, and it’s so  _good_  to get to.

“Okay,” Blaine says, “anything else?”

“Hmm,” Kurt thinks, “right now?”  He can’t touch Blaine, can’t kiss him or hold him or tangle his fingers in the hair at the back of his neck.  But there are some things, maybe, they can try just like this.  “What do you think of Skype sex, boyfriend?” he says, smile as teasing as he can make it past the sheer simple  _joy_  of being this close together anyway.

“Oooh, that’s a great idea,” Blaine says.  “And I think we can figure it out.”


End file.
